That Damn Imp
by CultOfStrawberry
Summary: For over 1,000 years, the powerful nature spirit known as Puck, among many other names, has been in love with a demon. After centuries of failed effort to win the heart of the demon he is head over heels for, Puck has come up with a new scheme to woo his lady love. Will he succeed, and will he learn what he needs along the way?
1. Prologue

**That Damn Imp**

 **Prologue**

I've been wanting to do a fun romance story for a while, but wasn't inclined to go into the tropes and cliches I see all too often in both Harlequin novels and erotica. Not that there's anything wrong with said tropes and cliches because I will admit I have some guilty pleasure from certain ones, and I know I'm not alone in this. But if this is not your first story of mine, then you know I like to try different things for my works.

I'd been stuck on ideas for an m/f romance story for a while because many of the ideas that popped in my head simply didn't feel satisfying or interesting enough to me. Several months ago, I bought Gargoyles (the cartoon) on DVD, and damn, that was a fucking great cartoon… its too bad it went to hell with Goliath Chronicles. As an adult, I was able to appreciate anew the cartoon I loved as a kid. And Owen/Puck is my absolute favorite character in the show. The duality/difference between two sides of the same person is really interesting, and damn if both of them aren't also pretty damned hot. I feel terrible for Puck after what Oberon did to him (Oberon and Titania are both douchebags btw. They did so many things wrong and pooh poohed their own poor behavior more than once.)

I've wanted to do a lighter/more comedic story as well, with a less serious tone than my other stories. I've also been wanting to do a story set in the modern-day world, as my other works are set in fantasy. With all these percolating in my head, Puck gave me the final burst of inspiration I needed for this story. I also drew inspiration for the handsome, sexy male lead of this magical tale from other sources, including old gods like Dionysus, and I'll admit, a touch of Tom Hiddleston's Loki. Mmm.

Koshka is in part inspired from Anya from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I'll admit she is my favorite character of the show, and I enjoy her blunt attitude and love of money. I would like to thank my boyfriend for the great inspiration and feedback he gave me for this story, and for getting me hooked onto Buffy in the first place. :P

There are a few Easter eggs here and there, if you find them, good for you! :P As always, reviews and feedback are more than welcome, and I sincerely hope you enjoy this story!

o0o

Magic was an ever-present force in the world. While it was true that belief in it had waned over the centuries, it remained no less real. This ancient power was channeled through various sources, big and small, with the majority of the world's population having no knowledge that it existed, or merely dismissing it as fanciful tales.

Floating in front of the television, Puck stroked his chin as he listened to the news report that was sweeping the nation. The bereaved grandmother of a murdered young man had, according to a number of eyewitness reports, had gone on a murderous, machete-wielding rampage. Every member of the gang that had taken her boy was dead or mutilated.

According to some reports, the woman had been stabbed, shot and otherwise wounded dozens of times... only to shrug it off. She'd laid a wide swath of destruction in what was known as a very dangerous neighborhood, and oddly, the next day, she was found in her apartment, having some tea. There was no clear, conclusive photographic evidence of the rampage – something that was odd in this day and age of smartphones – and no physical evidence to be found anywhere in Pam Voorhees' apartment, or on her person, considering all the injuries she had been said to take.

Many experts were baffled. Some spoke of adrenaline; women lifting cars to save their trapped kids or husbands. Others talked about inflated, sensationalist reports. The story had become viral as the background of the story was revealed, showing that due to suspected corruption in the police force, as well as over a year of legal maneuvering by well-paid lawyers, the men responsible for her grandson's death had gone off with little more than a slap on the wrist. Many in the community were outraged, but the gang had also terrorized any potential snitches to hold their tongues.

All of this had culminated into a spectacular tale of a rampage that had ended with several houses burning down, and more than a dozen people dead, all of them affiliated with the gang. Sensationalism carried the news across the nation and overseas, and through the Internet, with many praising Pam Voorhees for what she had done, regardless of whether there was evidence or not that she did it.

"Bloody 'ell, anyone goes after my kids like what with that old bird's grandson, I just might take a machete and take care of business myself," one of the men uttered gruffly. His companion snorted, taking a pull on his cigarette. At the moment, some footage of the gang leader's house ablaze filled the screen, casting the faces of the two men who were having beer on a porch, in an orange glow.

Puck grinned, barely listening to the men converse, as his eyes fixed on the screen. Where the humans saw exaggeration and adrenaline, the ancient fae new better. This was old magic. Vengeance magic. The kind that, like his, could do just about anything. Grinning, he clapped excitedly, and vanished in a burst of white light, briefly startling the two men who looked around for several moments before resuming their leisure.

o0o

Such magic left its mark on the world. When you altered reality in such a way, it was inevitable. Puck followed that magic, invisibly flitting over city streets and unsuspecting crowds, even visiting the place where the rampage had occurred. Despite some clean-up efforts, the damage was still very much visible, and the residual magic beckoned to him, tantalizing him further with its familiarity. The trail might have ended there for a lesser being, but he was the Puck, ancient, wild magic coursing through his veins. This magic called out to him, and he followed the trail.

When it brought him to rest outside of a small, tucked away, coin collector's shop, he regarded it curiously. "Hmm... not what I expected," he murmured, his lips turned to one side. Still, his curiosity was powerful enough that it was worth checking out.

The shop itself was also guarded by old magic. Most would have never sensed it, but for one like Puck, such magic was not easily hidden. It acted as both a guard and a snare. Anyone who would break into that shop to steal the merchandise would meet a rather unpleasant end, that much was obvious. Whoever owned or guarded this shop certainly held his or her wares dear.

There was movement inside. An attractive redheaded woman stood behind the counter, assisting an older man with locating and purchasing a coin. The exchange seemed cordial, for the man did mot remain long, tucking the folded bag with his purchases into his jacket before heading out of the store, the barred door swinging closed behind him. She stood there for a moment before closing the register and flipping her mid-back length dark red hair over her shoulder. Clad in an attractive black and dark blue sweater, Koshka Dengiov carried just the right balance of elegance and professionalism.

When the old man exited, Puck popped inside... literally. Appearing in a burst, he crossed his legs and floated at a height just above the counter. Getting a closer look at the redhead, he grinned, rubbing his hands together.

"Koshka?" he inquired, all smiles and bright eyes, the light of the shop reflecting off of his pale skin and silver-white hair. "Assuming you're still going by that name, that is. I thought that Voorhees thing was vengeance magic! Didn't know it'd be you though. Must be my lucky day."

The woman in question raised her eyebrow, making no attempt to conceal her irritation as she looked up at the infamous Puck. He could be rather cute, if he wasn't so god damn annoying. Her sense of humor was considerably different – and more bloody – than his own.

"Why would you visit me over the simple matter of a grieving grandmother who was taking things into her own hands? The men who killed her grandson were getting away with it, and Pam Voorhees was only doing that she – and many others, even if they won't say it – felt was right. She's waited over a year for justice to be served, and when the system failed her..." Koshka shrugged. "These men will never be able to hurt others again." The effects of Pam Voorhees' vengeance would be felt for a long time. Already members of other gangs were exercising caution, lest that they unwittingly trigger another rampage.

"Vengeance is your thing; not mine. I don't care about that. I just wanted to know who was flinging around old magic, because this goes way beyond some outcast girl casting a hex on the most popular girl in school. How could I not take notice? And, when I saw it was the lovely Koshka, I figured I'd drop in. Why so glum, hmm? I know you're glad to see me."

"No matter how many times you try to flirt with me, the answer is no. You're just not my type," Koshka replied casually as she turned away from him to file away the receipt from her recent purchase. "Or are you just sticking around because you want a good show? Want to watch me work my magic around here for more machete rampages?" Her voice bore traces of a Russian accent, and was one many men found sexy, especially in the 'hardcore Russian bitch' way. This effect was only furthered by her pale green-blue eyes, the irises so light that under certain lights it appeared as if she only had pupils, which gave her a penetrating stare.

"A good show? All that blood and carnage? Nah. I'm here for the flirting. And your voice may say no, but your eyes," he floated closer, laying on his belly in the air, resting his head on his hands, "tell a different story." Finally dropping to the ground, Puck maintained his grin, running his hands through his long, hair as if primping himself for her. "Come on. I've seen you checking me out..." Puck flexed his core teasingly, part of his chest and stomach visible through the loose white shirt he wore, the fabric open almost all the way to his navel. Around his legs were loose mottled green and blue pants, held up by a braided leather belt. Several bracelets and bands circled both of his wrists, made of various materials – hemp with several beads woven into it, a smooth wooden band, an ornate braided leather cuff, a silver band with a few gemstones, and a gold wire one with a Celtic woven design.

Some might describe the look as Bohemian, and in certain places, it would indeed draw a glance. But Puck's most arresting features were his silvery-white waist-length hair, and pointed ears. Koshka studied the familiar pointed face, and the age and power that she saw in his gaze, somehow further emphasizing his youthful features.

"You can't go around looking like that, and then expect people to not notice." She rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively. "Besides, you couldn't handle someone like me." She bit back a smirk as she issued this unexpected challenge, never before had she responded to his flirtations thus.

"Couldn't..?" he pretended to choke on the words, "..couldn't handle you? Come on! I've got more energy than the next hundred Fae. Weave a bit of magic, and I _can't_ get tired. What makes you think I 'couldn't handle you'?" He asked the question, complete with air quotes, before hopping up to sit on a glass display counter.

"You're just a little fae," Koshka responded. And compared to the average human, he was indeed slight of build. "I am a mighty vengeance demon, as you so handily pointed out. You already said you can't deal with the blood and carnage, so as I said before, you're out of your league." She smiled to herself as she turned away from him to tidy the display a bit, pretending that he wasn't on her counter, his ass on the glass. Stupid ass…

"I'm sure you keep the blood and carnage off of whatever large pile of money you probably have sex on," he shrugged. "And if it's because I'm short, I can be taller." Grabbing his hair, Puck pulled up, his body stretching with the movement. "Shapeshifter, remember? Though between you and me," he slid down the counter, gliding closer as if the surface were slick, "it'll feel the best if I'm.. well, just me. Not having to worry about maintaining any magics. I've had a good long while to learn how to please someone, you know. Maybe you're the one that couldn't keep up with me."

"Bloody persistent, aren't you?" Koshka said with a small snort. "And what is it going to take for you to realize that I'm just... what was it the mortals said, 'not that into you'." she said, using quotes. She made no effort to respond to the money comment.

"Not that into me, huh?" he sighed, a hint of sadness in his voice. Whether it was sincere or not was another matter entirely. "Is it my charming disposition? The fact that I believe in fun?" he teased. "I suppose it's your loss," he smirked. "For now. I have an eternity to wear you down."

"You should know that my heart is as cold and hard as the coins I so hold dear," Koshka replied flippantly as she turned back to him. "Come on, now, don't pout, it makes you look like a boy."

"Right. Sure it is. You admitted to checking me out earlier. There's gotta be some fire in there for that," his grin returned. "You can't tell me you don't wonder what it'd be like. Despite your jibes, I'm one of the only beings out there that _can_ keep up with you." He floated from the display case, slinking forward, getting face-to-face with the demon. "Just give it a try. Unless you're worried that I'll ruin you for humans or something."

She reached up with her finger, lightly pushing him back through the air by pressing his nose, and using a bit of her magic for it. "You know what they say, curiosity killed the cat. You like to slink around and be petted, I'm sure. I see the same exact behavior from the tomcats in the alley. Meow." she gave him a playful swipe. "Now I need to be getting back to work."

"Dodging the offer? Can't refuse me, hmm?" Puck turned upside down in the air, his hair hanging to the floor. "I'm wearing you down. You know it. I know it."

Flipping and landing on his feet, Puck regarded the store with a shrug. "You wanna work? Fine. I guess I'll go. But you're going to miss me. Yep. Before long, you'll be wanting me to come back." With that he headed slowly toward the door.

"Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out. Have a lovely day," Koshka said as dryly and neutrally as if she was serving a customer she just wanted to be rid of. Though he did have a nice ass... She snorted to herself. She was an ages-old vengeance demon, and he was a little fae. Powerful, but still, most fae were afraid of her and the old magic she wielded so easily. Not the Puck though, his power was around equal to her own, and they respected that despite traveling in different circles.

Puck looked over his shoulder, regarding her with a little pout before he hung his head, playing up his moping. By the time the door was closed, he had vanished.

Koshka scoffed to herself. When was the last time she'd seen him? Eleven or twelve years ago? It'd been quite a few years, but for over a thousand years, Puck would appear in her life, every few years or decades, to flirt with her and to try to seduce him. And given his old habits, she knew she would be seeing him again soon. He always hung around for a while to renew his attempts to court her her before he wearied of her constant rebuffs and would disappear again for a while. That damn imp.


	2. Chapter 1

**That Damn Imp**

 **I**

o0o

Puck floated over the park, enjoying this pocket of nature within the bustle of the city, basking in the midday sun. It was a slightly nippy morning, but the people who had chosen to make use of this park didn't seem concerned. Over at the jungle gym, several parents or nannies watched their charges tumble about and play, and several joggers made their way along the trail.

Koshka was a fetching sight in her exercise outfit, which contained of a pair of black sweat pants cut off at the calf, a long gray tank top, and a dark blue sports bra, its straps visible from beneath the tank. Her running shoes pounded the pavement in steady rhythm, her ponytail bouncing behind her head. The slim redhead made her way into a more wooded part of the trail, which extended beyond the park.

He appeared next to her, floating in the air. "Fancy meeting you out here this fine morning," he offered jovially. "What's a lovely thing like you doing in a place like this?"

She shot him a sideways glance, not breaking her jog. "Getting bothered by you, apparently. Honestly, if you're going to jog with me, do it the right way," she said, gesturing to him moving through the air. "Jogging helps clear the mind. Hopefully that's just what you need."

 _She's not telling me to go away! Yes!_ Given this small victory, Puck decided to acquiesce with her request. Using a bit of glamour, Puck transformed himself into an ordinary, if eclectic-looking human. His long, pointed ears were now small and curved, and his loose top had transformed into a plain white T-shirt. He didn't wear any shoes, though. Humans who saw him would just assume he was a hippy, most likely. Not that he cared much.

Koshka snorted, but decided to not make any comments on his bare feet as she jogged ahead of him, inadvertently giving him a view of her ass, the muscles flexing up and down as she ran. Puck did not hesitate to take advantage of this opportunity, and slowed a bit, whistling teasingly. Before she could reply, he darted up ahead of her, giving her a similar view of his own backside, his loose pants having been turned to blue sweatpants that hugged his own backside, providing what most would find a pleasing view.

"I think what annoys you is you find me irresistible," he offered over his shoulder, "and you don't know why. Don't worry. I get that a lot."

"You think I find you irresistible? Dream on, Puck. You wouldn't be the first man to see refusal as playing hard to get. I suppose all men really are alike, regardless of their... species." She raised her eyebrow, trying to not look at his nicely-shaped ass.

"Denial, denial," he chuckled, backing up to jog alongside her. "You can keep at it, but I know better." Reaching a hand over swiftly, Puck gave her ass a firm swat. He laughed, preparing himself to pounce away from any attempts at retribution. She growled and grabbed at him, her long nails raking along his arm as he scooted out of her grasp.

"I'm going to kick your ass, Puck, I warn you. Keep at it and you'll feel my vengeance!" she warned, raising her fist at him.

"Mmm..." Puck wiggled his eyebrows, shaking his arm where she'd scratched him. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but not an unwelcome one. "And see, now I've got you talking about my ass. I'm wearing you down."

"Puck, my antics are the stuff of nightmares. An ocean of blood has been spilled in my name… names. I see nothing wrong with using sharp, pointy implements to solve problems." she replied flatly before her lips stretched into an almost predatory grin. "And no, that's not a challenge for you to take on… that's a warning."

"Well, aren't you one badass, sexy little demon," he quipped back. "And it's a nice one, by the way. Your ass." Puck groped at the air teasingly, grinning. "Oh and for what it's worth Koshka, I may be a bit on the short side, but I'm not little where it counts."

An erotic image of him came to her mind unbidden, with him naked and showing off said endowment. And damn, if that didn't actually get her a bit wet! What was frustrating was that it was not the first time her imagination had undressed the Puck for her. She scowled at him. "Hmph, go away, can't a woman just enjoy a quiet morning jog? I guess it's true what they have been saying on the news about hoodlums hanging around the park and harassing the joggers."

"That wasn't me... but I can see where you'd assume otherwise. I do tend to cause trouble. 'Go away' though. Not gonna happen." Puck's feet left the ground as floated up a ways and laid back on the air, locking his hands behind his head. "Shouldn't I be able to enjoy the park, just like anyone else? It is 'public', right? And they did a nice job on it. Some excellent sights out here to admire…"

Koshka was tempted to whip out some of her magic ans give him a good, searing blast, but there were people nearby and she didn't wish to place an innocent life at risk, or have to cast forgetfulness magic on witnesses. She sighed and rolled her eyes, continuing her jog, lifting her middle finger at him as she passed by him.

Puck flew past a bird, the creature less spooked by a fae than it would be by a human. As he flew by, he gestured down at Koshka. "She digs me," he explained, nodding. Of course, he knew the quick chat would be overheard.

Flying faster to catch up, he dipped lower, before starting to run again, his feet slapping the ground. He laughed softly. "Is it just that you need to cut loose? Learn to have a little fun? I mean, come on. Why not give me a chance to show you what I can really do? You won't be disappointed."

She snorted at that. "And what would your idea of a good time be, mischief-maker? You have a terrible attention span, and an even worse sense of humor," she replied, jabbing at him, hoping to annoy him as much as he annoyed her. "As I said before, you're not my type. You have the attention span of a young child. I enjoy real men who know how to be adults. At least, adultier than you."

"I can focus when it counts. I've stayed in the same, still form for days, waiting for the right time to spring a joke. And besides, look at you," he looked her over once again. "How could I not focus? It's already hard enough to think about anything else." In truth, her comments about his sense of humor did hit a bit close to home. Puck did his best to hide it behind his smiles and jokes. Besides, his tricks were meant to help and amuse people. He couldn't do that if he let things get him down.

"And as for being an adult, I'm older than any human male on this big, blue rock. I'm more of an adult than any of them could ever be," he jogged a bit closer so she could see how he teasingly raised his eyebrows. "In more ways than one."

She had to bite back a grin. "I guess it's true what they say, age is just a number. Now, are you going to continue trying to distract me, or will you let me resume jogging? I see some nice beefcake." she said as a muscular male jogger was visible around the bend, coming their way.

"I'm going to keep pestering you, of course," he shrugged. "And I know you see some nice beefcake," he ran a hand teasingly down his chest, "you were just talking about how I'm so distracting. There has to be a good reason why you just can't keep your eyes off me." Puck eyed the other jogger, but quickly turned his attention back to Koshka. They jogged past one another, Koshka and the other man regarding one another with polite nods. Puck waved cheerfully, and the man looked just a bit perplexed, but waved back.

The pair made it into a more open area. There was no play equipment here, but several people were sitting on benches sipping their morning coffee or stretching out. On the streets that formed the corner of the park, people milled about, getting off the bus and entering various buildings to get to work. At the corner was a hotdog cart, and Koshka jogged towards it.

Puck regarded the cart with a faint scowl, processed meat was not his thing. Some of the things these humans ate…

"You would be surprised at how good some of the food around here is," Koshka commented as she purchased a dog from the vendor, asking for onion and relish, with a thick dash of mustard. After paying the man, she bit into her breakfast with satisfaction. The man was one she'd seen several times before, and his onions and relish were always fresh. She exchanged a few friendly words with him before taking a couple of steps back to let someone else purchase a hotdog.

"Humans are not without their charms," she said in an aside, meant only for Puck's ears after she swallowed a couple of mouthfuls. The man glanced towards Puck, but he shook his head, trailing after Koshka. He waved his hand through the air before dropping it to his leg as if reaching into a pocket and pulled back a shiny, red apple.

"I'll take your word for it," he replied, biting into the fruit with an audible crunch. "They're amusing, if nothing else. I've spent my fair share of time with them; we all know that. Lately though, I prefer your company. Just in case you hadn't noticed."

"Should I consider myself lucky?" the redhead replied dryly as she sat on a bench to eat her hotdog, pulling a bottle of water from her small backpack. "I suppose you ran out of pretty fae or humans to chase after."

"Lucky? Definitely. There are still all sorts of pretty fae and humans," he plopped down onto the bench, making a show of scooting up beside her. "If I wanted them, I'd be after them. But, I... want... you..." Puck tilted his head, resting it teasingly against her shoulder. "What's a matter? Worried you'll never be able to enjoy anyone else after you've had all of me?"

"You make much of your skills, Puck." Part of her did find it cute how he was sidling up to her like he was a cat, and she was tempted to reach and pet his head, running her fingers through that long, white hair. Why did that fucking imp have to be so cute? "But I'm afraid I would just frighten you." she said with a small smirk as she scooted away from him.

"Nothing frightens me," he shot back defiantly, hopping back to his feet and jogging in place. "I still don't get why you do this. It's so much easier just to fly. And besides, we could be expending all this energy in... funner ways."

"I have my money, and that's all the fun this girl can handle," Koshka shot back as she finished her hotdog, licking some relish off her fingers and inadvertently giving him a show, her pink tongue darting out in a way that had Puck thinking about that tongue darting out against something else. "Diamonds are my best friend, and I sleep in a pile of money. What more could I want?" She rose to her feet and returned to the trail.

"Oh, so that's it!" he shot back, admiring the show. "You don't think you could handle me. I expected more confidence out of you, Koshka. Maybe I _should_ go find some wild little fae girl." Puck grinned, challenging the demon, as he remained at her side when she resumed her jogging, "As for what you _could_ want, I could make you feel like the magic's running through you without even using it. There's a reason they've written poems and stories about my amazing skills."

"Your reverse psychology will not work, Puck. I know your tricks." She wagged her finger at him, placing her hand on her hip. "Trying to make it seem as if one is scared might work on a mortal, but I know my power well, Puck. I'm too smart for that. Go on and find some fae girl to nibble on your ears if you're so horny." Though she would never admit it, she enjoyed their banter. Even after all the centuries she'd known him, he still found ways to amuse her. Of course, she wouldn't laugh out loud, that would only encourage his antics further.

"You're the one that said your money's all the fun you can handle; not me." Puck's hands went to his own hips, mirroring her gesture. "You are smart though, I'll give you that. You came up with that visual of nibbling on my ears real quick. Unless, of course, you've already been fantasizing about nibbling on them. I know I've been thinking about getting my mouth on you," His tongue curled from between his lips, slowly swiping along his upper lip before slipping back behind his teeth.

 _Damn you_. She felt her stomach tighten in a warm knot at the visual of them using their tongues along one another. And where had that ear thing come from, anyhow? When did she get the idea that his ears would be fun to play with?

"Hmph." She headed out of the park, now on her way home. "I have to open my shop in a bit. I do have to support myself and keep the money coming in, unlike you."

"Yeah... on that one, I do have it easy. Coming and going as I please. I could work for a living if I had to," he shrugged. "I just don't have to. I'll see you later, I hope you have a nice day with your money!" With that, just as quickly as he'd shown up earlier, Puck vanished... at least for the moment. It was no secret that he could pop back up at any time.

"Heh." Koshka shook her head. That Puck... he certainly was an interesting fellow. What _would_ it be like to nibble on his ears... and elsewhere? She blinked, scowling to herself as she resumed her jog, focusing on the scenery in front of her as she tried to pull her mind from her would-be suitor.

o0o

Koshka glared at the would-be perpetrator with clear disdain, tapping the counter with her manicured fingers as the young man tried to talk over her, arguing with her over the kind of items she would buy, which did not include televisions. Not only that, but the shopkeeper suspected that the TV was probably stolen. She would bet a month's earnings that the TV had been taken from somewhere within a few blocks of this store, otherwise why would he be trying to sell it to her? One definite giveaway was that there was no remote, and when she'd casually inquired after it, the man had shrugged.

"Sir, I told you, I only buy valuable metal and stones. I have n need for a television. Kindly take your sagging jeans and get the fuck out of here, mkay?"

"Fuck you, cracker bitch!" the man squawked angrily, trying to intimidate the petite woman with his bulk. At that, she swiftly reached under the counter and pulled out a shotgun. "Out. Now."

The man swallowed and took his TV back.

"Actually, no, leave the TV. It's mine now." When he started to protest, she cocked her gun. He looked down the barrel and backed away. She smirked at him. "Now, if you want to round up your friends and break into this store tonight... please do. It's been a while since I had some fun." She gave him a smirk that made a chilly January evening seem warm and inviting.

The hood rat ambled out of the store, muttering to himself. She put away her shotgun and sat back down in her chair after pushing the television to the side, sipping her coffee and reading her newspaper as she waited for her next customer.

Puck eyed the confrontation from across the street, using a careful touch of magic to listen in to the conversation and observe the confrontation, akin to being the proverbial fly on the wall, if from a distance. He bit down on his lip, holding back laughter as Koshka scared away the young thug. Once the man sullenly took his leave, the trickster allowed himself a few more moments to admire Koshka. Sighing, he dropped slowly to the ground.

Though he could sense that, just maybe, he was wearing her down, his insistent approach had yet to seal the deal. While Puck was a lot of things, patient wasn't among them. And, having spent the last week – and over a thousand years – mulling over his options, he was pretty certain he had settled on a workable plan. If he could be the kind of man Koshka wanted, would she take an interest in him?

He'd gone into carrying out his plan with careful attention. He couldn't use simple glamour for his guise. He had to have a substantial background to further his persona. So, after some investigating, he had come up with a back-story that seemed plausible, and gave him a legitimate reason to seek the services of Koshka Dengiov.

So he'd formed the persona, and body, of a tall, conventionally attractive human male. It'd felt a bit odd, taking on this shell, but Koshka would have detected glamour. After backing away from the window, he slipped down the alleyway, emerging several moments later as a sharply-dressed man, silver-framed glasses resting on the aquiline bridge of his nose. His suit was navy blue, with a starched white shirt and pewter-hued tie. His blonde hair was short-cropped and neatly-styled, and in his left hand was a suitcase.

Puck looked down at himself, wiggling around a bit to adjust to his new height, which now put him squarely at six feet one, nearly a foot taller than he really was. Lifting his head, he pushed the bridge of the glasses up his nose before squaring his shoulders and walking down the sidewalk to the shop. He caught the reflection of his new self in the windows of the storefront. How would Koshka react to this?

He took a deep breath as he stopped at the door in front of Koshka's shop, looking at the sign next to the door. Clearing his throat, he looked himself over and adjusted his suit. As he opened the door, he heard the ring of a bell, and much as he wanted to fix his attention on Koshka, he forced himself to glance around the shop, like a casual customer seeing if a shop is worth his time. He removed his glasses and wiped them with a cloth he'd pulled out of his pocket, before slipping them back on.

Koshka looked up from her newspaper as she heard the bell ring, and as the he made his way into the space, she felt her heart skip a beat. Gods,.. he was a magnificent specimen of a male. Tall, neat, handsome... and completely professional-looking. She barely registered her shock as she became aware of a deep yearning, If this had been some shitty 90's cartoon featuring a blue hedgehog that looked like the entire setup had been written and animated by ten-year olds, she'd have become a heart and floated around him. She collected herself as she watched him attend to his glasses.

"Welcome to The Money Box, where our motto is 'you spend money to get money'! How can I help you?" Koshka stated, managing to maintain her cool as she rose from her seat to stand in front of her counter.

The man approached the counter and peered down at her over the rims of his glasses. She swallowed thickly.

"Good afternoon," the man offered, "This is your shop then?" he looked around, as if perhaps expecting a proprietor that was a bit older. "Very well. I'm Malcolm Allaway." He reached out his right hand, the briefcase held firmly in his left. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

She took his hand. Inappropriate fantasies danced through her mind as she looked at him. She imagined gagging him with his own tie while grinding against him, or using it to tie his hands to her headboard. _Yes_... Her nipples hardened under her loose but thin burgundy sweater. "And what service may this shop render you, Mr. Allaway?"

He shook her hand firmly, holding it perhaps just a bit longer than he needed to. As he let go, his fingers slid along the back of her hand. "I've a small collection of valuable coins to be appraised and, potentially, sold," he replied. "Is there somewhere we could sit down and do business?"

She paused before nodding, coming around the counter to a door at the side of the room. "This is my office, make yourself comfortable." It was the typical setup, with a desk and a few chairs. The room was tastefully decorated with some framed coins on the walls, and to the side, a cabinet and counter-top with several pieces of equipment for weighing or assessing the purity of various metals. "Put the coins here on my desk, I have a good light here." She sat back in her chair comfortably, gesturing him to use the bare surface

Malcolm took his time, settling into one of the chairs, resting the briefcase on his lap. He flipped the numbers on the case's combination lock and set it onto the desk, turning it so the inside would be easily visible to Koshka

"These Abbasid gold dinars have been in my client's collection for some time," he offered, opening the case to reveal the dozen Middle Eastern coins. Each was ensconced in its own individual, protective case, all of which were nestled in dips in thick, soft foam. "Appraisers have attested to their authenticity, based on both metallurgy and translation of the Kufic script. Of course, your establishment has a reputation for a discerning eye for quality and value, so I opted to bring them here."

"Well, you don't come across these coins every day, even in my profession." Carefully, she took one coin out of its protective case, after having donned gloves. She examined it under the magnifier. She already knew it was gold from just the feel of it, but that was a demonic ability, and naturally, one she couldn't simply advertise to her customers. She couldn't make her job look too easy, after all, and humans liked their certifications. Silly paperwork, but she could understand its necessity.

"You were told the truth. These coins are authentic, and are of definite value. I can offer you five thousand dollars for the lot." She loved haggling, and coin and pawn dealers did quite a bit of it.

"Even on the low end of their estimated value, these go for nearly twice that. And as you've surely seen for yourself, these are in excellent condition for their age. I feel that eleven thousand is a much fairer price to be asked for these coins." Malcolm replied evenly.

"You've done your research, hmm? I'll go for six."

"If I were to accept such a price, my client would be greatly insulted. Ten thousand, for a dozen of these coins, is a fair investment."

"Do recall that I run a shop. I need to make profit off this. However, I'll be fair and go up to sixty-eight hundred."

"You drive a hard bargain, madame. I certainly can see why you have such a reputation. My client is eager to spend his money, so let's say nine thousand."

"Seventy-five hundred."

"Eighty-five."

"Eighty."

"Eighty-four."

"Eighty-two." Koshka rested her chin on her hand, regarding him with a faint smile.

"I hope you enjoy your coins. I'm sure you will get more enjoyment out of them than my client did."

Koshka nodded briefly before she rose to her feet. He handed over the suitcase, having no further need of it. She raised her eyebrow a bit at this gesture, and inwardly, Puck panicked for a moment, wondering if he should ask for it back. His face remained calm, almost deadpan, and Koshka took the suitcase and set it aside before walking past him. "The receipts are up front, would your client prefer cash or a check?" Her skirt brushed against his shoulder, and he caught a faint whiff of her perfume, smiling to himself before he rose to his feet and followed her outside the room.

"I feel I've been quite generous in accepting your offer, Ms. Dengiov. Perhaps, you'll allow me one, final condition before we sign anything. Allow me to use this windfall to treat you to dinner. I find it's the ideal way to truly finalize such an agreement."

"I thought you were selling this for a client," Koshka replied. Fortunately, Puck had dome quite a bit of studying, and he'd spent enough time among the humans through the ages to pick up on their habits.

"Yes, but I receive a commission." _Nice save_ , Puck told himself when he saw Koshka raise her eyebrow again, this time in understanding.

"My, is this my lucky day?" she asked with the hint of a flirtatious smile. She turned from him to get the cash and make out the receipt. He drummed his fingers very lightly along the edge of the counter. So far, so good. In fact, better than good. He could practically taste her desire for him. She was like a cat in hear, and though he certainly wanted to stir Koshka up, he honestly hadn't expected her to fall for him this hard.

As he ruminated on the effectiveness of his persona, he caught her glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. He offered her a slight, vague smile, instead of the puckish grin he might have offered in the past.

Koshka pulled out the necessary paperwork, taking a deep breath before she turned back to him. Why did she desire him so much? There was no magic around him, not that some silly love charm or spell would work on her, anyway. Hmm. Facing him, she counted out eighty-two crisp hundred-dollar bills before placing it all in a manila envelope. The gold coins she'd just bought would make a nice addition to her stash, and was much more valuable to her than American paper money. Not that the currency didn't have its uses…

"So, what did you have in mind?" she asked, Dinner with Malcolm… already she knew what she would wear… provided that Malcolm gave her the proper response Would he be more generous or stingy with his commission?

"Hmm. How do you feel about Mediterranean cuisine? There's a lovely bistro downtown that comes to mind. Mostly Italian, Greek and Moroccan main dishes, but the menu is rather diverse. And luck has nothing to do with it. We're merely concluding a successful business transaction." Something about the hint of a smile on his lips suggested that Malcolm was hoping for more than that.

"Sounds grand. How about I close up early tonight? Dinner at say, 6-ish,. Unless you have to work?" she asked, trying to appear casual while inside she was practically flipping heads over heels for him. He looked damn good in his suit, and she was sure he would look just as good out of it. "Well aren't you eager?" he quipped, his smile becoming just a bit more pronounced. "Six works just fine. Where shall I pick you up?"

"Right here, unless you'd rather not roll your car in this neighborhood," she teased.

"Roll my car?" his eyebrows quirked slightly. "I will be here at 6:00 sharp, Ms. Dengiov. It has been a pleasure doing business with you. Now, shall we complete that paperwork so I can be on my way?" He asked the question teasingly, the corner of his mouth still curved with a hint of a smile. It was as if he was suggesting that she didn't want him to leave.

"Oh, are you in a hurry?" she shot back casually as she put the papers together and showed him where to sign, her fingers lightly brushing against his as she handed him a pen.

"I never hurry when I am having a pleasant time," he replied casually, filling out the forms in a flowing, old-fashioned cursive. When their hands touched he looked up from his work, catching her eye. When he returned the pen, he pointedly held it so she'd have to touch more of his hand, and touch it longer, to take it. "Unless, of course, I see something I like. Then I hurry to make it mine," though he kept his tone casually, his pointed glance with the comment could only really mean one thing.

"Oh, is that so? I am afraid that I am not one of these people that... becomes 'yours'." She smiled at him. Her fingers slid along his as she tugged the pen out of his grip. "You will find that I am quite the handful to deal with, Mr. Allaway. But if you're game... then I am." She exuded wisdom and confidence, but then she was an ages-old demon who had plenty of experience in dealing with men. If not overgrown imps… She blinked and pulled her focus back to the transaction. The receipts now signed, she handed him the envelope. Malcolm took the money and slid it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Oh, I have no interest in a woman that is content to be a… trophy. Now one that's a handful…" he grinned, "you have my attention. We'll see how things go at dinner tonight, hmm?" He slid a business card out of his wallet, sliding it across the counter, his hand lingering on the card. His eyes met hers again as he felt the tips of her fingers make contact with his own.

"It has been a true pleasure to make your acquaintance. I look forward to furthering it tonight." Was it just his imagination, or did he detect a faint blush of her cheeks? Looking down at her hand, he took a gamble and took gentle hold of her fingers, guiding her hand up so that he could lean his head down and lightly brush his lips against her knuckles. Judging from the quickening of her pulse he sensed, he let her hand linger for a moment longer in his before he released his hold.

"I am sure the pleasure will be mine, Mr. Allaway," Koshka replied, the faintest hint of a purr to her voice. He felt a shiver of pleasure pass along his spine before he forced himself to turn away from her and walk towards the door. Just before he exited, he looked over his shoulder at her one last time, drinking in the sight of her, their eyes making contact. There was a faint smile on her lips, and she lifted her hand, wiggling her fingers in a friendly good-bye gesture. At that, he smiled, returning her wave with a light swipe through the air before he left the store.

Puck was tempted to do a victory dance, to pump his fist through the air, to do a cartwheel or let out a loud whoop or… well, just about anything a person would do when happy and excited about something.

He spent much of his time around humans, and was familiar with many of their ways. There were different ways to court a woman, and he'd been prepared to exercise some patience with Koshka. His original plan was to simply encounter her a few times on a professional basis, with various coins from his stash, obtained through various deals or payments in the past. He didn't have much use for money personally, but recognized its value in this world, and having spare gold lying around certainly helped. Malcolm's 'client' would have more to offer Koshka… and now Malcolm was going to offer more than that, sooner than he had expected.

Not that Puck minded, of course. He'd been prepared to take it slow, and familiarize himself with Koshka before trying to move beyond a business relationship. Now they would have dinner together! His lips spread into a very Puckish grin as he strode down the sidewalk before turning around the corner, disappearing into the thin air.

o0o

Well, that was a lot of fun to write. Hope it was just as fun for you to read! Feedback – love it, crave it, and draw inspiration and sustenance from it. Seriously, reviews are my lifeblood.

I'd like to reply to a couple of comments. ForeverACharmedOne, thanks so much! And Madame Thome, your comments about the spiders made me LOL. Now I can't help but imagine Koshka as one of these terrifying huge spiders from Australia. (warning, guys, do NOT Google for images of this unless you want a healthy dose of NOPENOPENOPE and/or nightmare fuel. Seriously!)


	3. Chapter 2

**That Damn Imp**

 **II**

o0o

Koshka had dressed herself to the nines, going for a combination of elegant and sexy by dressing in black and various shades of red. She was a vengeance demon, but no one could be blamed for thinking she was a succubus. She stood outside the shop, garnering a couple of catcalls as she waited for Malcolm. Through the barred window of the shop, the TV she had 'liberated' earlier this morning was visible. She was certain the thug would come with a couple of his friends, and fall into the snare she'd set for intruders, but for once, she had something she looked forward to more than visiting her judgment upon would-be thieves. So she'd have dinner with Malcolm, and then who knows what might happen later…

From up the street, in the shadows, Puck admired Koshka. She had on a burgundy dress that ended just above the knees, with a tasteful hint of cleavage displayed from the vee of her collar. Knee-high black suede boots and a jacket completed her look, making for an appealing package that would warm him on this cool night. And to think she was dressed like that, just for _him!_ Rawr. Slipping backward into the darkness, he weaved his magic and gave things a few minutes more.

A black Rolls pulled around the corner and came to a gradual stop in front of the shop before Malcolm climbed from the vehicle. Like his suit from earlier, this one was double-breasted. The black fabric, coupled with the navy blue tie, was something that Puck had agonized over, trying to decide on the right combination of colors. He normally preferred brighter and warmer colors, but understood that some colors weren't appropriate for a suit… at least, usually. Since Koshka had responded so well to him earlier, he'd decided it was a safe option to dress Malcolm in something similar, if a bit more dressy and appropriate for an evening out with a date. From the way that Koshka studied him in an open and admiring glance, he deduced that he'd judged correctly.

"Good evening. Since we are going out for dinner, I feel it would be appropriate to call you Koshka, instead of Ms. Dengiov. Are you comfortable with that?" he asked.

"Only if I can call you Malcolm," she replied. He gave her a faint but warm smile and nodded before offering her his hand, palm up as he bowed slightly. She lifted her hand, languidly letting it drop into his own. "You cut quite the handsome figure." Her gaze moved to his car. "It certainly warms my heart to see someone take the time and effort to be so dapper." Though her tone was controlled and her expression was calm, Puck could practically taste the heat radiating off her.

As an ancient nature entity, Puck could sense arousal in others. After all, sex was part of nature, the way to continue the cycle of life. He could nearly _taste_ Koshka's desire on the tip of his tongue, and imagined that it might carry the flavor of cinnamon. Her raw need beckoned to him, and he wondered when she'd last had sex, or an orgasm. Should Koshka invite him to bed – and it seemed almost a certainty at this point – he would ensure that she did not regret her decision. The implications of his disguise would be considered later, after he'd had his fun.

He brushed his lips across the back of her hand, lingering a moment longer than he needed to, his eyes moving up to meet hers.

His light kiss sent shivers along Koshka's spine, and she imagined his lips elsewhere. Gods, she almost wanted to melt. She'd been thinking about Malcolm all day and how much she wanted to see him again. She saw another brief smile at her comment.

"I do try," he offered, opening the passenger door for her, making sure she was comfortable before he slipped into the driver's seat. He took a deep breath as he turned the keys, feeling the engine hum smoothly. He would be flying almost blind in this, or at least it would feel that way. He'd learned all he could about safe, proper driving of a car in a short time, and though he was prepared to use his magic if absolutely needed, he didn't want to give away his true nature – at least not yet. After asking her if she was comfortable and pulling on his seat-belt, he leaned his foot against the gas.

Koshka sensed that he was nervous. She glanced over at him, noting how he seemed to be putting all his attention to his driving, as if he was afraid that even the most fleeting lapse in attention might cause an accident.

"Everything all right?" Malcolm asked as they idled at a light that had turned from yellow to red just as they approached it. He took the welcome lull in driving and glanced at her. She nodded.

"I'm just… sitting here, admiring the sight of you."

He relaxed, a smile coming to his face. "You flatter me, Koshka."

"Malcolm, you will find that I am not the kind of woman who gives meaningless praise."

"Well then, I am honored. I hope I will continue to earn that honor."

"Relax," she whispered. He raised his eyebrow a bit. "Take a deep breath. Just have fun, all right?"

He did as she asked. Was his nervousness really that apparent? Well, at least she was being nice about it. This kindness did a bit in helping him relax, and by the time they arrived at the restaurant, he took comfort in the fact that hey, his driving skills were pretty damn good.

Terraneo's was decorated in a modern look, with just a hint of Mediterranean culture displayed in photographs and paintings on its walls of places around the sea. The establishment presented itself as high-end, though the food was at reasonable if high for several items, prices. It seemed like a reasonable place for him to take Koshka, according to a common human tradition.

The hostess took them over to one of the alcoves that offered diners more privacy than the usual seating. After looking at the menu and discussing things, they decided to go with some wine and stuffed mushrooms as an appetizer while making some talk about their respective jobs. He worked in personal finance, helping clients to dispose of estates or possessions discreetly. She shared a couple of humorous stories about her work, and both of them laughed as they sipped their wine.

"So, I noticed you have a bit of an accent. I must say, I find it sexy," Malcolm commented. Here in America, foreign women were supposed to be highly desirable. With Koshka's looks, he didn't doubt that she was aware of her appeal. She'd never been one to flout her beauty, but was not above using it to her advantage now and then. "So where are you from?"

"Oh, here and there. Mostly Russia and Eastern Europe," Koshka replied casually. Puck knew that much was truth, at least for almost the last half-century. From the late fifties to the two-thousands, Koshka had indeed spent most of that time in Eastern Europe and Asia. Through that time, he'd always found her somewhere in that area.

"So how many languages do you speak?"

"There's English, Russian, Polish, Hungarian, and Turkish," Koshka commented, counting off the fingers on one hand before she stopped herself. _Modest, are you?_ Puck thought bemusedly. He knew that Koshka also had a good command of Mongolian, Mandarin, Romanian, and German, and was fluent in Latin, Ukranian, and Greek.

Puck had spent some time deciding on what Malcolm would know for his other languages. Like Koshka, he was going to be modest.

"I know some Russian, and am fluent in Mandarin, Japanese, and French," Malcolm offered. "Perhaps you could help me brush up on my Russian?"

"If you can help me with my Mandarin."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you so much. I do not doubt you know you are a beautiful woman, but what I find even more attractive is your intelligence." Though Puck had chosen these words to please her, he also meant what he said. "I do know enough Russian to know that Koshka is a word for 'cat', and I must say it suits you rather well."

Koshka's smile was warm, and she rested her chin on her hands as she studied him. Fuck, Malcolm looked like he belonged on the cover of GQ, and she noticed that he got a bit of attention here and there from other women who walked by, and couldn't help but feel a bit possessive of him. She could almost swear her fingers were tingling. She was no stranger to desire and had had her share of lovers in her long life, but she couldn't recall a time she'd ever felt the urge to literally drag someone to her bed and have her way with them. That he was easy and fun to converse meant they could have conversation after sex. Unless he was the kind of guy who fell asleep after orgasms. _Hmm_.

For his part, Malcolm was personable, professional-acting when it came to dealing with the hostess and waitress, but doting on Koshka when they had time to themselves. He refilled their wine glasses himself, having ordered a fine bottle for the two to share. He did not miss the glances he drew from other women. However, when the woman he'd desired for so long sat before him, enjoying his company, how could he even consider any other woman? Trickster, imp, free spirit he was, but Puck did not have it in his heart to treat a woman that way, especially not Koshka.

"I see people looking over here, checking out the most gorgeous woman in the place," Malcolm commented.

"What? No no, the women are staring at you. You're quite the handsome gent. And you do look very nice in the suit, so I can't complain." Their main courses arrived, and she raised an eyebrow after her second bite. Malcolm sampled his own plate and nodded in approval. After taking several more bites, Koshka spoke.

"This is a pretty good place, didn't expect such a place in this neighborhood. So it's interesting that we both like money, though I prefer old money and you work with new."

"I work with what's available, really. Old money's nice and all. It just doesn't circulate quite so much, so I find ways to make it work for my clients. As for this place," he looked around, "it's nice. I like the variety a place like this offers. And, of course, the pleasant company."

"After dinner, do you want to order desert, or did you have something else in mind?" Koshka asked casually as they neared the end of their meal, having poured fresh glasses of wine.

"There's always dessert, and then something else..." he said with a faint smile. "I'm fine either way though. You?"

"I'm good with whatever you want," Koshka said with a small smile. "Of course, I can respect a man who wants it all."

"Good to know," he quipped, turning to request a dessert menu from the waiter. "Whatever we do, I hope the date doesn't have to end after dinner."

"Well, we're mature, consenting adults. I assume you don't have a curfew?" she asked with a grin before she selected the mint gelato for dessert.

"As long as I show up to work sometime in the next couple of days, I should be fine."

She smiled at that. "A man who can keep his own hours. Nice." Their treats arrived, and Koshka made a small sound of delight as she took a bite, her moan almost erotic.

Malcolm watched her enjoy the cold treat, focused less on his food and more on her, barely registering the peach and date gelato. He smiled, leaning a leg forward to brush his foot teasingly against hers. Of course, the touch was hidden beneath the long, white tablecloth. He'd made sure to select a restaurant with this feature, among other exacting criteria.

Her own foot slid forward a bit. Both of them had on shoes or boots, but could still feel the heat of one another through their footwear. It appeared that Malcolm desired her as much as she desired him. Sensuously, she ate the last few bites of her food, licking her lips as she did so.

He ate his dessert just a bit quicker, finishing up and paying the bill. Though he did his best to be subtle, it was hard to hide the fact that he was prepared to get out of there and have her alone. As they made their way to the car, she decided to take the next step and leaned against him as they strolled, wrapping her arm around his middle, enjoying his warmth on this cool evening.

Malcolm wrapped his arm around her in kind, giving her a playful squeeze to pull her close. He leaned his head down, resting his cheek against her temple affectionately. For a moment, he wondered if he'd gone too far, but she leaned into him more.

"Mm. So, where to?" Koshka purred. "My place, or yours, or do you prefer the anonymity of a motel?" The last part came in a teasing voice.

"Whatever would be most comfortable for you." He'd already secured an apartment to fit his Malcolm Allaway persona, though it did need a bit of breaking in. "Though I believe, your place is closer to here than mine, if that makes any difference to you?"

"What's the address?"

He gave her the address, and she tapped her chin for a moment. It was in a decent neighborhood, and of no great distance. However, she shrugged. "If you're fine with my place, let's go there."

"You live next to your store, right?" Malcolm asked, pretending he needed clarification.

"On top of it."

"I'm sure that's very convenient for you."

"Hey, why pay for two different places when you can have it all in one?"

"There's that," Malcolm acknowledged. They slid into the car and sat there for several moments.

"Oh by the way, do you have condoms?" he heard her ask as he settled into his seat.

The question caught him a bit off-guard, but he was quick to recover. Condoms, condoms… yes. That was something a responsible human male did, and Malcolm Owen Allaway was a diligent man who would not make rash decisions. He thought things through because that was the proper thing to do. Plus, of course, using magic for birth control was a big no-no in his plan to woo Koshka. She would sense any outward use of magic, he was certain.

Still, he was the Puck, and despite his best efforts to maintain and upkeep his new persona, a bit of the Puck would glimmer through, displaying itself in a glib comment from the stoic Malcolm.

"You mean you don't?" he looked over smiling lightly, reaching a hand out to touch her leg. He ran it upward, pulling the dress up just a bit.

It felt like a jolt of electricity had gone through her. For a moment, she assessed herself. She could wiggle her fingers and toes. She took a deep breath, feeling the pads of his fingers slide along her knee. He leaned in closer. "Don't worry, Koshka. I did not get where I am by not taking care. As is often said, always better to be on the safe side." His hand slid up just a bit more.

A soft sigh escaped her throat as his hand moved away, and she was aware of a faint warmth in her cheeks.

"Should we be going then?" he asked, though he did not seem to be trying to rush her. She blinked and nodded. The drive was as quiet as before, and Koshka considered about what could transpire. She did not need condoms, due to her magic. However, Koshka was aware of the importance of birth control to many humans, and honestly, it wasn't a bad idea. It'd also been a test for Malcolm, and to her relief, he passed. If a seemingly intelligent and prudent man such as Malcolm was so cavalier about sex, that would have been a warning sign. And it would have been a shitty turn of events if the man of her dreams had turned out to have such a fatal flaw.

As he pulled down the street that her shop was on, she directed him to the private parking in the back, and Malcolm acquiesced, even though he'd felt a fresh surge of anxiety at maneuvering the car into a space. There was a car nearest the back door, a sleek pomegranate-red number with license plate that spelled VENGER. His lip twitched a bit in amusement while his back was to her for several moments. Like her shop, he sensed magic guards around the car.

She tugged at his hand almost impatiently, leading him up the back stairs to her apartment, which was furnished comfortably in a pleasing mixture of tastes. The kitchen was a mixture of old and new, seemingly brand-new appliances sitting amidst dark wood and marble counters. In one corner, he saw food and water dishes for a cat or a small dog. Just beyond one side of the kitchen was the living room. Some of the furniture was modern, but he also saw an antique here and there, which was fitting for a woman… demon of Koshka's age and disposition. Several tasteful paintings adorned the walls, depicting views of places he recognized such as Istanbul and St. Petersburg. A nice television sat on an entertainment podium, decently-sized but not overlarge.

"You have a nice place," Malcolm said with genuine enthusiasm as he looked at the lush, dark blue carpet that marked the living room area from the foyer and kitchen.

"I'm not going to not enjoy the fruits of my labor, Mr. Allaway." She stopped short of the carpet and started unzipping her boots, bending over to do so and giving him a welcome view of her rear end.

"Nor should you." Quickly slipping out of his shoes and setting them aside neatly, he reached over to caress her behind as he stood next to her. His fingers curled in a slight squeeze, unabashedly sliding the dress up a couple of centimeters as he did it.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist," Malcolm whispered, though the purr in his voice indicated that he wasn't the least bit sorry about it. She lifted her head and smirked at him.

"Resistance is futile," Koshka responded smartly as she turned around to loosen his tie. He certainly had a nice tie, and she wondered how he'd look tied to her bedposts with several ties. Now there was an idea. After draping the tie loosely around his shoulders and unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt, she gave him a light kiss on his lips, barely brushing her lips against his own. She leaned over, giving him an even better view of her ass as she unzipped her other boot and stepped out of them

"Mmm," Malcolm removed his tie, his suit jacket following quickly. Undoing a few of the shirt buttons, he stepped forward, coming up against her as she stepped out of the second boot. He pressed against her eagerly, his ample hardness already apparent beneath his slacks.

Koshka wiggled back against him, thrilling at what she felt against her, feeling her own arousal go up some.

"Damnit, Malcolm," she breathed as she stood back up, turning to face him. He was a delectable sight with his shirt half undone, and she unbuttoned the rest, undoing his belt as well, leaving him bare from neck to bellybutton, his chest and abs peeking out from the opening of the shirt. He looked down at himself for a moment before regarding her with a small smile, taking another step forward. He undid the buttons of his sleeves, rolling them up loosely to his elbows. Koshka regarded the bared flesh with a renewed hunger for this man.

 **(cutscene. This scene has more to it, but it is too explicit for the standards of this site, and I figured I might as well have a 'clean' version. The full version can be found at Literotica, under the same username, CultOfStrawberry. I will continue posting chapters here but any erotic content will be cut out, per the standards of this site. You have the option of reading the full version, or the clean version, up to you. Otherwise, read on.)**

o0o

The next few hours were filled with fierce and pleasant couplings, being dominant in turns. Puck had been curious as to how she would be in bed, would the badass demon be just as wicked between the sheets, or did Koshka take a break from that boldness behind closed doors? The fact that she was a switch delighted him, for he was one as well. Variety was the spice of life, after all.

Puck went several more times, but did not want to push the limits a human male was supposed to have. Hopefully, one day, he would not have to worry about restraining himself. He lay there in a tangle of sheets with Koshka, listening to her breathing.

"You, sir, are a god among men!" Koshka whispered. He kissed at her neck and played with her hair.

"You're too kind," he murmured. "Of course, you're so damn sexy I work my hardest to please you."

"Oh, please me you did. Do you want to stay for breakfast? I don't have much in the house right now, but I can go down to the Comet Cafe and get breakfast for both of us, their waffles and French toast are to die for, and we did burn off plenty of calories."

"Well I certainly don't want to leave," he shot back, smiling tiredly. "Breakfast sounds delightful." He settled into the blankets with her as they cooled down from their activities, and in due time, she was sleeping soundly. He took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, basking in the comfort of her company.

Not long after the sun came up, Koshka stirred awake, and Malcolm pulled her into his arms in response. She purred and stretched against him before giving him a sleepy nuzzle. He basked in this affection, and pulled her into a bear hug before slowly releasing her, delighting in the feel of her body against his own. She pulled away and he heard the running of the shower for no more than four minutes before she emerged from the bathroom, dressing quickly in jeans and a faded sweatshirt.

"I should be back in about half an hour, all right? You can relax or wash up or… whatever."

"Sure. I'll be waiting eagerly for your return." He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I have no doubt of that." She blew him a kiss before leaving. Puck was now alone in her apartment, for the first time in their relationship, he'd been invited into her private space. She had powerful magic here repelling unwanted guests, and if he'd tampered with that magic, she'd have known. Being invited, made that an non-issue. He took his true form, relaxing as he wiggled around under the quilt. Suddenly, he felt weight on the bed and opened his eyes to see a large and handsome moggie cat.

"Well, I do have a sunny disposition, and I am kind to animals, aren't I?" Puck cooed at the cat, petting him and giving him a belly-rub. As he rubbed the purring mass of fur, he ruminated on the previous night's events. His performance as Malcolm was… well, damn. He had to applaud himself for that. Many guises he'd gone through the millennia of his existence, but none as extensive as this one he'd created to woo his lady love.

Despite certain limitations, his night with Koshka had been everything he'd wanted and more. He wouldn't ruin the moment by snooping. Instead he just laid there, basking as he cuddled with the cat, soon to discover that it had a partner, a solid black cat that wanted to be petted and cuddled as well. He was happy to oblige.

A glance at the clock revealed that nearly twenty minutes had passed since Koshka left. With a soft sigh, he rose to his feet, slipping back into Malcolm. He did a quick check of himself. Even with condoms there was some mess, and the deodorant he'd put on the day before seemed to have worn off. Generally, it wasn't that big of a deal to the Puck. However, he wasn't supposed to be Puck.

Koshka's bathroom was clean, and he was relieved to find extra towels with ease. After showering for a few minutes to make sure he was satisfactorily clean, Malcolm stepped out and dried himself before pulling on his pants and shirt, only doing a few buttons. After a moment's consideration, he collected the rest of his clothing, as well as Koshka's own, leaving them on the top of the chest in the bedroom. He also collected all the used condoms and wrappers, disposing of them before looking around. Yes. The Puck was many things, but never a poor guest. Plus, for Malcolm, it was the responsible, mature, adult thing to do.

Just as he was debating whether it would be appropriate for him to put some food in the nearly-empty cat bowls, he heard a car pull up behind the building before the sound of the back door slamming shut heralded her homecoming.

"Welcome back, my dear," Malcolm called out as he helped her with the bags. Several containers now sat on the table, and he recognized the smell of staple breakfast items. There was thick-sliced French toast, as well as waffles, and eggs, bacon, and crispy hash-browns. There was also butter and syrup, and Koshka had salt and pepper in her pantry.

Malcolm took several clean dishes from the drying rack and set them on the island before looking through several drawers and locating forks and knives. Before she could sit down to eat, he pulled her in for a slow, passionate kiss.

"This looks delicious. Not quite as delicious as you, but it will do for the time being."

She smiled at that. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you? The more time I spend with you, the more I like you," she purred back as she took some waffles and bacon, putting on a liberal amount of butter before adding the syrup.

"Mmm, good," he murmured, grinning and settling in for a meal of his own, taking some of everything. He took the time to savor each bite, though much of his attention still found its way back to his companion. He did not speak for the time being, content to simply enjoy her company and the meal she'd so graciously provided for him. Regardless of whatever happened in the future, he knew he would never forget this day.

o0o

That was hella lot of fun to write, and I hope it was fun for you to read as well! If it was, reviews are very much appreciated!


	4. Chapter 3

**That Damn Imp**

 **III**

o0o

After he left Koshka's apartment that morning, Puck found himself torn between decisions. There was what he _wanted_ to do as Puck. And then there was what he understood to be _proper_ , as Malcolm. Some human notions were annoying to him, yet he knew that in the human world, this or that behavior was considered polite, decorous, the mark of high class, and so on.

Almost immediately after he'd left her apartment, he was overcome with the urge to turn back and return to her. _Parting is sweet sorrow_ , Puck mused as he recalled the warmth of Koshka's body so eagerly pressed against – or wrapped around – his own.

He'd managed to distract himself with other pursuits for the day, among them thinking about what to do next as Malcolm. After his night with Koshka and a surprising glimpse into the tenderness that the normally acerbic redhead was capable of, he only desired her all the more. He needed to figure things that he could do entirely by mundane means. No waving his hand and making roses or anything else appear by magic. No using his powers to whisk away inconveniences, like heavy traffic or annoying persons. No magic as Malcolm, period. This self-imposed limitation was difficult for him at times, to be sure.

For a creature of wild magic such as the Puck, who worked the mystical energy often without thinking, he knew he was gambling with his strategy for courting Koshka. Slipping up was not an option, and not merely acting, but _functioning_ as a mundane person was no easy feat for one such as the Puck. She was likely to be pissed – more than likely, actually – if she found out that she'd spent the night with the man who she'd eluded for over a milennium.

Yet, after last night, Puck was loath to abandon this strategy that had so far repaid any inconvenience he experienced as Malcolm with enormous dividends. He would simply continue on as Malcolm, and continue enjoying these dividends. What reason was there not to? Oh yeah, there was that fact about getting a vengeance demon pissed off, but he'd think about that another time.

In the meanwhile… he'd waited the entire day, knowing that she would be working, to send her a text. She'd given him her number, and he'd managed to be patient enough all day. She should be home now, so he picked up the smartphone he'd recently obtained, and input her number, taking a moment to decide what to say.

Finally, his fingers tapped the screen, a bit slowly as he was still getting used to the device.

' _I had a fantastic time, and I would love to see you again soon. When's a good time for you?_ ' he asked. He was eager to see her again, but didn't want to make that too obvious. He had to be calm and cool. Well, not too cool, obviously. He was trying to be all… 'adulty'. At least, what humans were supposed to consider being a proper adult. He'd started off with being wooden and stiff, relaxing a bit into the date as he noticed her warming to him. Still, he had to be careful.

Setting the phone aside, he glanced over at the purchases he'd made today. He'd bought a few things for his apartment, as well as several potted plants. The loft apartment had large windows, filling the space with a light that to him, simply needed to be complemented with some plants. Besides, as a nature entity, he started to get antsy in spaces that were too… well, mundane. He simply didn't understand why humans would want to live in places devoid of fresh air or greenery.

The greenery helped to balance out the cool, neutral colors of the walls and furnishings. He'd also been careful in his decorations. Normally, the fae have chosen vivid colors and eclectic designs, but it was Malcolm that this apartment had been selected for, not him. He'd just obtained more clothing for his human persona. The salespeople – particularly the women – in the stores he'd gone to were attentive and eager to please. He had little doubt that it was because of his physical appearance. But then, he'd designed Malcolm to be a prime male specimen, adding the glasses to balance him out a bit.

More clothing was to be had – pajamas, exercise wear, casual clothing, and of course, more suits and ties. He'd gone a bit crazy with the ties, he had to admit, but some of the ties he saw were very nice. One was a black and red paisley pattern, the deep, vibrant hue catching his eye, and bound to meet Koshka's approval, given her love of the color. He grinned as he held up the tie, examining it after he'd removed it from the box.

After nearly a quarter of an hour, his phone buzzed, and Puck jumped a bit. He picked the phone off the black lacquered end table and glanced at it.

' _Hey, Malcolm! Glad the feeling's mutual. How about Thursday night?_ ' That was two nights from now, and Puck's first thought was to convince her to move it to tomorrow night. After all, who could blame him for wanting to see her so much? However, he took a deep breath, and typed in his response.

' _That sounds great. What did you have in mind?_ ' He had _plenty_ of things on mind, much of it sexual.

 _'How about I cook us dinner? I could come over to your place_ '

 _Ooh_. Puck looked around. He had some basic cooking supplies and food items. He would need to get some fancy doodads, if cooking shows were any indication. Well, not a problem. After all, he was a responsible adult. If that was what Koshka wanted…

' _So you're sexy, smart, and a cook? I really am a lucky man_ ' Puck was not much of a cook – magicking up food was easy enough, but to prepare it the mundane way was something he had yet to master – or even do with basic competence.

' _Just let me know if you have any food allergies. I can prep some of it here and cook it at your place_ '

' _All right. I have basic kitchen equipment, and an updated kitchen. And no allergies_ '

' _Great. We'll discuss details later. I'm going to bed. Good night_ '

' _Sweet dreams_ ' Puck replied, setting the phone down after she'd signed off. Well, so far, so good. He didn't doubt that Koshka would look just as hot in his bed as she did in her own.

"Mmm." Puck gave out a soft hum of relief as his head lolled back against the sofa, staring out through the windows, his purchases forgotten for the moment as he entertained himself with vivid, pleasant memories of their night together, and positions he'd like to try with her.

o0o

Puck checked his phone late the next morning. He smiled as he read her message. ' _Was just thinking about you. Really looking forward to tomorrow night_.'

He waited before he responded to her, wondering what the best response to her would be. He had to be calm and collected. Yet, he had found himself with a morning erection, doubtless to his dreams and fantasies of Koshka, now made reality with vivid memories. Patience as a virtue was so over-rated. Therefore, Malcolm had to be patient. Malcolm acted this way because a subconscious part of Puck, however often ignored it was, knew it was the right thing to do.

' _I miss you too_ ,' Puck responded in an honest manner. ' _I look forward to the pleasure of your company_ ,' he added with a deliberately more reserved tone. He hit the Send button and looked down at the screen. Compared to communications thousands of years ago, it seemed almost magical that humans had found a way to communicate so quickly. Days, weeks, and months became mere minutes, even seconds with these devices.

A few more minutes passed by before the phone buzzed with her reply.

'I _know I certainly am eager to see your handsome face again_ '

Mmm. Well, why shouldn't he grant Koshka what she so obviously desired? Albeit not from the persona she was expecting…

' _You do know how to make a man feel desired_.' With that, he set his phone down and disappeared into the air.

o0o

Many Wednesdays, Koshka would only keep the shop open half a day, and spend this time at private appointments or estate sales, but she was not above simply taking the afternoon off because she felt like it.

Reclined in the lawn chair on a rare warm day for this time of the year, she wore a one-piece swimsuit the color of deep lilac. The bottom was of boy-short cut, but the upper half of the swimsuit revealed a fair amount of cleavage. She was reading an erotica book by an author who had a proclivity for tentacles.

Either the author had actually experienced it in person, or she or he just had a very rich imagination. Regardless, the book was damn good, and she found herself getting lost in the description of tentacle ravishment, and thinking about how sexy Malcolm was and how she couldn't wait to fuck him again.

The magical barrier Koshka had around her building extended to the rooftop, so Puck would be detected. Nonetheless, he descended to the rooftop, hovering over and just behind her, his eyes moving along the stretch of legs that terminated in a swimsuit that flattered its wearer, and gave him an excellent sight of her cleavage.

Peering down at the book and getting a glimpse of a particularly steamy scene including multiple penetrations, he grinned and glamored himself into a cartoony, purple octopus. Koshka slowly looked over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow but otherwise maintaining a neutral expression.

"So..." the octopus said, tipping one of its tentacles in a salute to her, "You come here often?"

"Well, as seeing I own this building, I do come here a fair bit. Not that that is an invitation," she quickly caught herself. It'd been nearly a month since her jog with him at the park, and she was wondering if she'd scared him off for the time being. Apparently not.

The glamor sparkled away, leaving Puck behind as he floated closer, tilting his head to look at the book cover and summary while she continued reading.

"Nice book. You know, if you really wanted to experience that sort of thing, us shape-shifter types are _uniquely_ qualified…"

"Nice book? So you've read works by this author before/?" Koshka asked in the same dry tone as she regarded him. "And you'd enjoy that, wouldn't you?" she asked with a smirk.

"Yes," he replied with over-exaggerated dryness. "And oh, yes I would."

"Did you by any chance give this author any inspiration?" she half-joked as she continued reading.

"Nope. That's normally not my sort of play. Not really into the creatures of the sea," he teased. "But if that's _your_ cup of tea, I can be flexible. Hmm, actually, that _does_ sound like fun when it's you I'd be ravishing with multiple appendages…"

Koshka blinked as such an image flashed through her mind before she swallowed thickly. "How generous. But we've been doing this song and dance for... what was it? 100 years? 1,000 years? You come back now and then, every few years or decades, and I always shoot you down. Why would this time be any different?" she asked with an almost trollish grin.

"Because I've worn you down? Or you've finally been taken in by all my charm? Or you've come to finally appreciate a sense of humor?" he turned over in the air, looking her over upside down. "Nice swimsuit. Really brings out your," his gaze never left her chest, "eyes."

She gave a snort at that and placed her book over her cleavage. "Wearing me down? Do you really think that a millennia of dealing with you would actually wear me down? I've lain with demons bigger and more bad-ass than you, elf." Her eyes twinkled as she delivered this message.

"And you seem so satisfied," he rolled his eyes. "That's why they're keeping your attention now instead of you sitting on a roof, reading."

"Eh! Why should you be so concerned about my activities, anyway? if I want to read erotica in the privacy of my own home, who's stopping me? Certainly not you." She placed the book in front of her face.

"Why read erotica when you could experience it?" he whispered sensually, peering over the top of her book. "Or, if you just want to sit there and read while I do my thing, we can swing that."

"Well," he added after a moment, "you could try. But you'd be too busy cumming to really appreciate your literature."

She stared at him for several moments. "You really have no intentions of giving up, do you?" She set her book on the arm of her chair for a moment. "Well, there is some advantage to your size..." She stroked her chin before patting her lap. "It makes it easier for you to sit in my lap."

Puck could only respond to this invitation in one way, giving no thought that this might not go a way he did not intend. He shot her a friendly grin, his hair sliding over Koshka's breasts as he leaned that way. "You're comfy," he murmured. "I'm accustomed to having the woman on my lap," he shifted his rear end side to side playfully, "but I could get used to this."

Koshka smirked, and let him sit for a moment or two so he could enjoy his so-called victory, before the trap was sprung. She dug her fingers into his sides, tickling him mercilessly, and as she was a demon, it was much easier for her to hold him captive as her fingers danced sharply along his sides and stomach in a merciless attack. There was no playing, or gentleness in the way she jabbed her fingers along his skin.

"Gah," he fell against her, laughing, squirming, and trapped. Or pretending to be trapped. Either way, he wasn't going. He shifted against her, attempting to tickle back, or playing at batting her hands away. "Stop!" he gasped half-heartedly, pawing at her, paying little attention to the way his hands occasionally brushed through her hair, slipped along the curve of her breasts, or otherwise pressed their bodies closer together. She was rather good at tickling, he mused, and bloody merciless.

She proved to not be at the least bit ticklish at all, but soon enough she realized what he was doing. _Cheeky little bastard_ , she thought as she shifted to move him away as she continued tickling him, so he could no longer easily reach and try to touch her. Her pokes were ruthless, and she had the poor fae squirming around, laughing as tears came down his face.

Even amidst his delighted sobs, he noticed her moving away, his hands failing to reach the most pleasant parts of her body. Still, he squirmed against her, pushing into her where he could, laughing hysterically.

In a few seconds, Koshka knew that he was enjoying this too much despite his apparent helplessness, and he'd figured out what she was doing. What pissed her off was that she was actually enjoying the damn imp's 'accidental' touches. With a hmph, she gave him a final tickle before pushing him off her lap, knowing he'd harmlessly float away. Fuck, what was it about Puck that made her tolerate his flirtations for so long? With anyone else, she'd have hexed them to block them from her presence.

With a small giggle, Puck slowly spun through the air before righting himself.

"Well," he adjusted his pants, cleared his throat, then wiped some tears for his eyes, "was it good for you?"

She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. "That wasn't meant to be enjoyable for you, you know." she replied with a soft hmmph

"Right. You held me on your lap and put your hands all over me to torment me," he rolled his eyes. "Admit it. You had fun. Next time, you'll have to let me take my time and figure out which parts of you are that sensitive."

"There are no sensitive parts of me," she responded. _At least not ticklish ones_ , she mused, though Malcolm certainly had found some areas that responded well to kissing or licking... "Honestly, Puck. When will you give it up? We've been doing this for how many centuries? I keep telling you no."

"You say no. But I see those little smiles, and that look in your eyes when your curiosity gets the better of you. Some part of you wants to know what it'd be like. And I guarantee, once you'd had me once, you'd want it again... and again... and again. So, when am I going to give up!" Puck pointed to the sky in emphasis. "Never!"

As an immortal, Koshka knew well how some immortals cold want something and wait many years to get it. After all, what was time to an immortal? "Come on now, if I was actually curious, don't you think I'd have gotten a taste of you by now?" she asked with a small smirk. "I've had many lovers over the centuries, and I know you have. i don't know what it is about me that allures you so much. I'm not even a fae," she concluded with a chuckle as she reached down to take a sip of her screwdriver. The sweetness of the cranberry juice provided an excellent contrast to the top-shelf Russian vodka that she had added to it.

"You're fun and strong and sexy. What's not to like? I mean look at you!" Puck looked her over, raising his eyebrows alluringly. "Yummy. And as for your other lovers, they can't hold a candle to me. I'd rock your world just like, I expect, you would do to mine," he spoke confidently, nodding and grinning, twirling a bit of his hair around a finger. Koshka closed her eyes for a moment as she thought about her night with Malcolm. Oh now _that_ was a night to remember…

"You seem awfully confident that you'd enjoy whatever I might do to you," Koshka replied. What a surprise it would be to her, to know how intimately Puck had already come to know her. "What if I want to tie you up in iron chains?" she asked, knowing fae didn't like cold iron. Well, there was Malcolm, and she imagined him tied to the bed spread-eagled. Would he like hot wax, or…

Her fantasy was interrupted by the voice of the Puck.

"That'd hurt!" he gasped, wrapping his arms around himself. "Though, if you were going to do the right things to me afterward, I think it'd be worth it…"

She raised her eyebrows. "Braving cold iron for sex with a vengeance demon? Do I sense a streak of masochism in you?" She took another sip of her drink before sitting up a bit, staring at him

"Not at all," he shrugged. "I just really think you'd be worth it."

She gave out a small snort. "I'll give you credit, Puck. You're brave and got quite the pair of balls on you. Perhaps that's why I put up with you."

"Because you like my balls?"

"How would I know if I like them if I've never seen..." She quickly caught herself. "No! Don't take off your pants!" she said, before he could get the idea in his head.

"Your loss," he shrugged, holding onto the waist of his pants despite her words.

"I suppose it's a loss I will have to deal with," Koshka replied with a sigh of mock dismay. "Oh well, life is filled with disappointments." she said casually as she went back to her book. Now, why was it she found Puck charming? He could be annoying at times, to be sure, but he _was_ cute and had a certain amount of charm. She did sometimes wonder how he would be in bed. But now she had Malcolm..

"But it doesn't have to be..." he sidled up next to her, floating beside her chair, his shoulder brushing hers. "So, how about I just float here and read with you. I promise I'll try my best not to cop a feel," he reached out teasingly, as if already struggling against the urge.

"Lay on finger on me, and I will break it. As for the book, do you by any chance know the author?" she asked. "I've read a few of her books before and she seems to really know her tentacles. Would she be another fae or demon?" Koshka asked casually. It was not uncommon for fae or demon to take on the guise and job of an ordinary mortal. For many, it made life more interesting., It certainly had for her.

"Nah, I think this one's just a pervert," he commented casually, leaning a bit closer to get a better look at the book. "No fingers, huh? What about the rest of me?"

"I think you know the answer to that. Now, shot up and let me read my book." She continued reading, getting to a steamy scene where the woman was being penetrated in multiple orifices by tentacled beings. "Are you sure? Because this author seems to really know her shit," she teased.

"Humans can have such lecherous minds. But then that's one of the things that makes them interesting," he said with a shrug.

"Tentacle porn makes them interesting?"

Puck gave out a short laugh. "I've always known you to be a classy, if hot-tempered woman. If you find this interesting, then it must have some merit."

She paused and stared at him for a moment. Her expression was devoid of disdain, or even any displeasure at his comment.

"Thank you," she said, after another moment of silence. He relaxed, regarding her with a faint smile.

"So, tell me about this story."

She grinned and gave Puck a brief rundown of the story she'd read thus far. A priestess was trying to save her people, so she tapped into ancient magic to summon help that would protect the land. Tentacled beings responded to the call, bringing about peace and in exchange asked her to become their concubine. She submitted to them and found pleasure beyond anything she'd ever imagined.

"Hmm, maybe I should go into writing erotica myself. About a horny fairy and a wildly sexy demon."

"Puck!" She huffed in exasperation, and he grinned widely. She quickly pulled up her robe, covering herself.

"I do believe you've seen enough, Puck No matter how many times you ask, my answer will always be no."

"You keep saying that. But a thousand years ago, you would've covered up the moment I appeared. Today, you let me check you out for a good, long time," he grinned. "And it was a compliment," he added after a moment, sounding uncharacteristically serious. "Didn't mean to upset you. You know I like you a lot, I just find you irresistible. If I've been naughty, I'll be a good sport and take a spanking." Ever mercurial, Puck's serious tone lost its edge as he spoke the last sentence.

Koshka stared at him for several moments, her devious mind spinning with possibilities. "Well then, be a good sport and put yourself across my lap." She saw Puck's eyes widen slightly in surprise, and bit back a smug grin. He quickly recovered himself and grinned.

"First tickling, and now this?" He lowered himself, his lips now just inches from her ear. "Wearing...you… down." Gracefully, he floated into her lap, draping himself comfortably and wiggling around just a bit.

"How am I supposed to enjoy this if you're actually looking forward to it?" Koshka asked with a mock grousing tone as she watched the wiggling rear end.

"Give it a try anyway and see how things go? I can pretend I'm not looking forward to it. I've been naughty, punish me." he looked up at her with a playful pout.

"Well, I know you've been very naughty. Teasing and annoying a long-suffering lady for over a thousand years. I think that needs some consequence." Without warning, she pulled his pants down and spanked him, giving him blows stronger than what an ordinary human was capable of, and turning his cheeks pink as her palm made contact with his ass multiple times.

The first spank brought a small gasp from Puck, and a wince as pain quickly followed. Her demonic strength obviously lent to the force of her spanks, and for a moment, he imagined her in a dominatrix outfit, wondering if she'd ever worked or played as one. That idea was pretty damn sexy, though Puck also immensely enjoyed the sweeter, gentle kitten he'd seen in turns in her bed.

His cheeks quickly warmed under the force of her blows, and Puck bit his lip to keep from yelping. He'd never been spanked so fiercely before, and her strokes were swift and merciless, going in a smooth rhythm while waiting just long enough between blows for him to feel the pain. Oh well… at least this was a step in the right direction. Besides... he did kinda deserve it.

He has a nice ass, Koshka mused. Pert and firm, the pale cheeks took on a lovely rosy tint under her attention. It was the first time she'd ever seen it bare. _First time for everything_ , she supposed. If not for Malcolm, she might think about taking things just a bit further. Her palm regularly slapped against his ass, taking up a steady crescendo, his butt becoming pinker before she finally stopped. His ass was closer to red than rosy now, but still looked rather nice, and she leaned back, releasing her grip on him, though she felt the urge to run her nails lightly up and down his back, or through his long hair.

Quickly pulling up his pants as he floated off her lap, Puck regarded her with a lopsided grin. He rubbed his backside before flexing a bit. "Now," he spoke softly, "what do I get to do to you?"

"You want something from me? Wasn't the pleasure of me touching your ass enough for you?" She crossed her arms. "However, you've caught me in a good mood today... perhaps that's why I'm so tolerant of you at the moment. So I'll humor you and let you tell me what you would like from me."

He pondered this, smiling and putting a finger to his lips. Lots of things came to mind. Acts. Positions. One thing really stuck out though. "Well first, I'd just like to kiss you. And not just some half-ass peck on the cheek," he clarified. " _Really_ kiss you."

"I'm surprised, I was expecting something more kinky," she admitted. "But all I can say is dream on." His mention of kissing made her think of Malcolm... and his kisses. Mmm…

"That's because you're laying on the roof, reading porn," he replied, sighing and rising further into the air. He looked away, crossing his legs and watching a flock of birds cross the afternoon sky.

"You do have a nice ass," Koshka acknowledged. Perhaps it was that she'd been fucked so well by Malcolm that she was in such a relaxed and easy mood, and more tolerant of Puck. Only if she knew…

"I know," he shook it in the air for her, his smile beginning to return. "And you've got nice... well, everything that I can see."

She gave out a small snort. "Oh, Puck. What am I going to do with you..."

"Apparently nothing," he pouted teasingly, once again crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's right, and don't you forget it," she responded, wagging her finger. "Unless you need another spanking, that is."

"I'm sure I will," he murmured. "Eventually." With that he floated up into the air, turning around and looking down at the redhead as he ascended. "You're going to miss me," he called out, disappearing in a swirl of light.

She gave out a small sigh. Just when she thought he'd disappeared for the time being, here he was. And just after she met Malcolm. Oh, crap. She would have to make sure that Puck didn't find out about her new lover. He wasn't malicious enough as to kill lovers out of jealousy, but he did not have a reputation as a mischief-maker for naught. And after the intense chemistry she'd shared with Malcolm, she was loath to lose what was promising to be a delightful fixture in her life, and for an immortal, these were cherished.


	5. Chapter 4

**That Damn Imp**

 **IV**

o0o

Somewhere in a shaded glen, where the weather was warmer than where Koshka was currently living, Puck stretched out on the thick, soft grass, listening to the breeze whisper through the trees. He stared up at the azure sky, interspersed by a small puff of white here and there, framed by the verdant canopy that hung above him.

It was such a beautiful day here. Perfect for a picnic. Too bad Koshka wasn't here to enjoy it with him. Ahh, that little spitfire. Many would call Koshka a virago, a shrew, or a termagant. Honestly, it was just one of the things Puck liked about her. That tickling was a divine surprise even if Koshka clearly had not meant for him to enjoy himself, and the spanking… well, his butt was still a bit warm from it, but oh, oh. He wondered if he had helped her release some of her negative energy while he was Malcolm. Well, there would be tomorrow night… until then, he had to be patient. Being 'mature' wasn't much fun, but Puck knew it had its uses. He let out his breath in a small huff as his hand slid down his chest, feeling smooth skin and comfortable linen.

His fingers brushed past his belt before settling on his groin, feeling familiar flesh under the material. Resting his other arm behind his head, he started to slowly fondle and grope himself, gently massaging along his length. Memories of Koshka and the passion they'd shared gave him plenty of pleasant images that would forever be seared in his memory.

 **(cutscene)**

o0o

Koshka had stated that she would be here at seven, so Puck waited outside for her at five before, dressed in a nice shirt with black pants, and a dark blue jacket. Only a couple of minutes after seven, he saw a familiar red car pull along the road, slowing down in front of him before the window rolled down.

"What's cookin, good-lookin'?" Koshka sang out. Malcolm regarded her with a faint but warm smile.

"I Believe you're the one doing the cooking tonight, as you told me," he responded smoothly. He gestured for her to pull onto his driveway. She emerged from the car with a plastic bin of what he was certain was dinner.

"Need help?" he asked as he watched her shift the container to one hip as she closed the car door.

"Be a gentleman and open the door for me, will you?" Koshka asked as she nodded towards the entrance to the condo. Quickly, he slid to the door and opened it, taking the moment to admire her rear end as she slid past him. Once she was admitted to his apartment, she bee-lined towards the kitchen island, setting the tub down and lifting the lid, pulling out several smaller containers.

"What are we having for dinner?" Malcolm asked as he watched her open a couple of containers. She quickly dumped the contents of one into one of his pots before setting it on the stove. It appeared to be some sort of stew, with a thick broth and savory pieces of meat and vegetables he could not quite identify.

"This is derived from a Hungarian goulash soup generally known as _gulyas leves._ I figured we could have something hot for this cool night, and I have some fresh-baked bread to go with it. The soup has been simmering most of the afternoon, so just let me spice it up a bit more and cook for another half hour, and we're good to go. In the meanwhile, I have some salad for us to start with. Would you please get some appropriate dishes?"

He nodded and retrieved bowls, forks and spoons, and a couple of glasses. He had white and red wine as well, and he turned to her, asking her which one she wanted.

"I think red will do for this occasion," she replied casually as she put several ingredients together to toss a salad. Through the semi-translucent material of one container, Puck saw brown swirls against cream.

"What's in there?" he asked.

"Dessert. A Serbian recipe for nut rolls. Orenhjaca."

"You know what they say, the fastest way to a man's heart is through his stomach," Malcolm dryly commented as he opened the lid, peeking inside at what looked to be a delicious pastry, the inside heavy with nuts and rich, sugary nut paste.

"That's not true. The fastest way is through the chest, with a sharp knife. It's been scientifically proven," Koshka replied with a deadpan tone as she stirred the goulash. Malcolm stared at her for a moment, Puck frantic that Koshka may have figured out his secret. But then, her face broke into an impish smirk, and he let out a short chuckle of relief.

Koshka swiftly tossed some lettuce in a spring mix with a garnish of almonds and feta cheese to be drizzled with a raspberry vinaigrette. The earthy, spicy scent of the stew filled the open space of the living area and kitchen. He poured them some wine, and took a bite of his salad. It was light and refreshing, and served as a refreshing precursor to the main course.

"So, how was your day?" Malcolm asked after several more bites of the salad.

"Mm." She shrugged, seeming a bit pensive. "A friend is dying, and I was visiting with her today."

He found himself at a loss how to reply for a moment, before he collected himself. "How is she coping?"

"Better than many would think." Koshka shrugged before she took a bite of her salad. "She will be missed, but she has made peace, and is living day by day for as long as she has left."

The imp studied her through the glasses that his human guise wore. The compassionate woman he saw before her was Venjanca, a demon as old as he, if not more. Her power was of his own caliber, if of a considerably more destructive bent. Wronged souls had cried out to her for revenge, and the price was almost inevitably blood.

Yet this very same being who had no compunctions about solving a problem with a sharp, pointed object, took the time out of her life to bond with and minister to a human near the end of her days. The same person who was willing to adopt a pair of difficult-to-place older sibling cats from a shelter? Was 'Koshka' no less a farce for Venjanca than 'Malcolm' was to him? She could still be pretty bad-ass in human form, of course, but her capacity for compassion warmed him to her all the more. He could call Koshka an act, but he was certain that her kindness was genuine. After all, these acts of kindness she had committed weren't done for attention.

 _I have the feeling that I'm going to like you the more I get to know you like this, my dear Venjanca_ , Puck mused as he finished his salad and poured them some more wine.

The bread, still a bit warm, was unwrapped from a protective shell of aluminum foil, the heady scent of the rye providing a pleasing balance to the spicy scent of the soup. He cleared away the salad dishes and set out bowls and plates at the small dining table. Amidst a couple of plants, the area commanded an excellent view of the riverfront.

"Care to give me a tour of this place? The soup needs to cook a bit longer," she asked. He nodded and gestured to the side of the kitchen where a stairway led to a bedroom and bathroom. The master bedroom in this unit was roomier than many would expect for a condo, and came with a well-appointed bathroom. Koshka's eyes moved around the room, seeing now neat it was. The bed was made up perfectly, and there did not seem to be one thing out of place.

"Do you approve?" he asked in a half-teasing tone.

"It certainly is very nice. You picked a great place to live, and you have good tastes."

He smiled at that. He couldn't take full responsibility for how neat this place was, having used the maid service the condo sometimes called upon. They'd sent over a woman who, irony of ironies, was Russian, though her accent was much more thick than Koshka's own, and the maid was blonde. He didn't consider this any sort of violation of the rules – plenty of humans employed maids, and as long as they were treated fairly, what was the harm in having some human assistance?

The other side of the apartment contained a smaller bedroom with a three-quarters shower. Malcolm had converted the spare space to something of a study/exercise room. She walked along the walls, perusing the titles on the shelves. Plenty of history, particularly that of Europe. Some of the books were old.

She recalled what Malcolm had told her the other night. How he was born in the United Kingdom before having come to America as a young child. His father was British, his mother Scottish, though both were now deceased. As she glanced back at him, he offered her a small smile.

Truth was, Puck considered himself a creature of the Isles, identifying himself as Celtic, Scottish, Welsh, or British in turns, and was well-heeled in the various cultures that had come and passed in the Isles. When needed, he could easily take on the persona of someone from any part of the Isles he so chose. The story he'd come up with for Malcolm was easily constructed from realities of his life, and thereby, easier to hold up the facade.

Koshka lifted the lid, inhaling the scent of the soup. "Mmm, now it's done." Setting the lid aside, she ladled the soup into the bowls Malcolm held before he ferried them over to the table. She cut the rye bread into thick slices before grabbing the ceramic butter container and bringing both over to the table.

Malcolm looked down at his bowl. In a broth that looked and smelled almost as delicious as the chopped meat and vegetables that sat in the dark brown liquid. Lamb, carrots, and potatoes were chopped in small bite-sized pieces, along with minced onion, garlic, and a few other flavors Malcolm was not immediately able to identify. The bread could be dipped into the stew to soak up some broth, or to catch a bit of the solid food.

It was clear that Koshka knew what she was doing. The flavors of the stew complimented one another nicely, and fresh-baked rye bread with butter added a rusticness to the meal that put Puck at ease.

More wine was poured, and more flirting and teasing occurred through the meal. His feet, encased in nothing but socks this time, slid over to brush along her toes. Her eyes met his, and she raised an eyebrow before regarding him with a faint smirk, brushing her own toes along the top of his.

When he finished his bowl, Puck had another half a bowl, finishing a bit after Koshka completed her own meal. They took their dishes over to the sink before Koshka took the container of nut rolls along with some napkins and moved over to the sofa.

"Does eating on the furniture bother you?" she asked as she turned to him.

"Provided that you eat carefully, there should be no problems," he replied. It wasn't that big a deal to Puck, but he realized that shrugging it off would be out of character for Malcolm. He took what remained of their wine and brought it over, settling down next to her. He'd missed this close contact, and almost without thinking, he draped his arm around her shoulders.

She wiggled close, leaning against him. With a slow sigh of contentment, he kissed her brow. The dessert forgotten for the moment, Puck simply savored the presence of his most favorite demon in the world. He squeezed her closer, inhaling the faint scent of her perfume. His hand slid down her arm, rubbing it gently as he heard a soft hum of approval.

 _Now, this was nice_. As the meal settled into his stomach, he rubbed her back before running his fingers along her face, brushing them through her hair.

"Is there something we can watch?" Koshka asked casually. He blinked and glanced in the direction she had nodded, recalling the entertainment set he had bought. It was nothing too fancy, just a nice, large screen with slim speakers, and a DVD player that, according to the salesperson, would also be able to access the Internet. Puck figured that was enough, and besides, he wasn't too materialistic, something that he incorporated into Malcolm, making his human self a person of elegant, but not ostentatious tastes.

He'd also learned how to operate said equipment, so could manage the remote controls with reasonable proficiency. "I don't know. What did you have in mind? A TV show, a movie?" he asked as she eased herself to a sitting position.

"Figured a movie would be nice, if you're up to it."

"Sure, sure. No problem." He fumbled with the buttons a bit, trying to remember how he'd navigated the menu, and after a couple of tries, had found the Movies selection. Most of the movies looked… well, blah. Of course, if he was so bored, he was certain he could find ways to distract himself… and Koshka, as well.

There were a few superhero movies and new releases, and he raised his eyebrow, pondering the selection.

"That one looks good," Koshka pointed out _Jungle Book_. Malcolm nodded and pressed Select, confirming the purchase with another click of the button. He settled back on the sofa as Koshka opened the container and put a slice of the pastry she'd made on a napkin, handing it to him.

As the opening credits played, he took a small bite of the nut roll. This spurred him to a larger bite, and the nutty paste melted against his tongue amidst the rich, flaky dough and crushed pecans.

"Mmm. I'm going to need you to come cook for me more often," he teased gently as he took another bite of his treat.

"You'll have to make it worth my while," she shot back. With a slow smile, he draped his arm across her shoulder.

"I'm sure I can find very good reasons for you to continue feeding me," Malcolm replied, adding a flirtatious edge to his normally dry, cultured tone. He kissed her forehead before taking another bite of the pastry, settling in for the film.

The movie was actually pretty good, and Puck found himself genuinely enjoying the story, though he was finding his company to be the highlight of his evening. He was sorely tempted to reach down and fondle or caress Koshka along certain parts of her body, and see where things went from there. However, although Koshka's desire tantalized his senses, there seemed to be a certain sort of reserve around her.

By the way she was comfortably seated against him now, her free hand resting lightly on his knee, it couldn't be because she was upset with him. Maybe she was just tired, or something was bothering her?

"Is everything all right?" Malcolm whispered, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"I don't see why it wouldn't be."

He chose to fall silent at that, especially as the movie got to a good part. He took another nut roll, and so did she, now leaning back against the cushions. Wanting to maintain some comfortable intimacy, he lightly hooked his free hand under her knee and tugged it towards himself, indicating that she should drape her legs across his lap. His palm slid along her lower leg, and she did not seem to mind, wiggling into the sofa a bit. Thin black socks hugged her legs and feet under a pair of loose, dark green slacks. His hand rested on her ankle for a moment before reaching under the hem of her pants leg, fingers finding where the sock stopped. Lightly, he brushed against her skin. _Mmm_. He moved his hand back down to cup the sole of her foot before squeezing it gently. A short, contented hum met his ears, and he started to rub the bottom of her foot.

After he finished his treat, he cleaned his fingers and set the napkin aside, resisting the urge to lick his fingers. That wasn't proper behavior, he thought regretfully. This fleeting sorrow was quickly set aside as he ran his hands along her feet, giving her a light, loving massage. He continued to regard Koshka with casual, gentle affection, feeling her relax under his ministrations.

Finally, the movie came to an end, and Malcolm gave a brief nod of approval. "It's hard to find a good movie nowadays, this is one I would not mind watching again," he commented.

"Yeah." Her feet slid out of her lap, and Malcolm sat up a bit, expectant for whatever might come next. He looked up at her as she rose from the cushion.

"It's going to be a busy day tomorrow, so I should be heading on home. I'm glad you enjoyed the dinner I made for you. Thank you for being such a good host." Her voice was warm and kind, but inwardly Puck was panicking.

 _What are you talking about, Koshka! You can't leave!_ He wanted to pull her into his lap and place kisses along her face and other parts, and have his hands explore her body and rediscover the places that made her moan and cry out… "Koshka, why not spend the night?" Puck managed to ask calmly, keeping his hands to himself.

She paused and sighed. "I shouldn't. I didn't bring any extra clothes or..."

"I have pajamas and towels you can borrow."

"It's going to be a long day."

"I'll make sure you get plenty of rest. My bed is very comfortable," Malcolm said in a soft tone that bordered on husky, not wanting to sound too demanding.

"You really don't want me to leave?"

"Why would I?" he replied with a faint grin. "I see no reason for this evening to end so soon."

She raised her eyebrow and studied him for a moment. "Remember, I need a good night's sleep."

"Duly noted. Shall I get some things for you?"

"Please do."

Ten minutes later, Koshka was in the bathroom, taking a quick shower. Malcolm had lent her a pair of deep teal pajamas to wear, made from comfortable, high-quality cotton. The sleepwear was too big for her, of course, but was more than adequate for a quiet night.

Since her glorious night and morning with Malcolm, he'd been on her thoughts constantly. She generally was not for sex on the first date, but their mutual attraction was palpable, and neither of them had really attempted to resist it. Not that there was anything to complain about.

Nonetheless, she was determined to maintain the upper hand in the relationship and now that she had managed to cool down a bit, she was ready to deal with the situation with a clearer mind. Malcolm hadn't said it, but she knew he had been expecting intimacy tonight. Her plan had been to have dinner with him and some chatting, before leaving. She was determined to not let her pussy make the decisions this time.

However, when Malcolm had entreated her to stay, his clear blue eyes shining with want for her company, she discovered that her resolve was wavering. So here she was, clad in his pajamas, her wet hair twisted up in a dark blue towel wrapped around her head. Rinsing out her mouth, she took the towel from her head and gave her hair one final rumple before hanging it up, noting the fastidious neatness of the washroom. He'd insisted that she use the master washroom, while he used the one downstairs. She'd been tempted to ask if he wanted to shower together but… another time, perhaps.

Malcolm looked up as she walked down the short hallway that connected his bedroom to the bathroom. The appeal of seeing a woman in their clothing was shared by many men across the world, and though Puck was no mere human mortal, he was no exception to this ancient male trait. Seeing the woman he'd so long desired, in his clothing, brought forth a stirring of primal urges, of taking possession of one's mate and showing them their passion.

With almost superhuman effort, Puck reined himself in, swallowing thickly. The book Koshka had selected from his library sat on the empty side of the bed. He lay on top of the blankets, though the covers were pulled back in readiness, a magazine held loosely in one hand. He'd chosen a conservative top and bottom set, much like the one Koshka was clad in, only this one was burgundy-colored. She climbed onto the bed and settled down, taking a sip from the glass of water she'd asked him to leave for her. He'd also gotten one for himself, and let his head sink back into the pillows as he casually perused the _National Geographic_ before him.

Puck had been expecting dinner and then sex, and what he had gotten was… a pajama party. This had not occurred to him in the possibilities he'd come up for tonight. He gave his companion a brief glance as she opened her book before he returned his attention to the photograph in his magazine, staring off a bit.

Well, at least he'd convinced her to stay. Why was she so concerned about rest, she was a demon! And he had only been Malcolm for about half a day this time, so he would not require more than a few hours of proper sleep. Unless it had been a long time since Koshka had been in her demon form. Puck had rarely seen Venjanca in her blue and indigo-hued form, and often wondered why the powerful demon didn't spend more time in her real form. Course, it wasn't as if he could just roll over and ask her. As far as she was concerned, he wasn't supposed to know anything about magic.

"Comfortable?" Malcolm asked. Puck was not a poor guest, and he did no more poorly as a host.

"All nice and comfy," she replied lightly as she flipped a page. Recalling his promise to let her rest, he made no further attempt at conversation and perused his magazine.

After about five minutes, Puck gave in the urge to reach out and touch her, and he did so in a casual manner, his hand brushing along the outside of her leg. She wiggled a bit closer, and he rested his hand on her lap, squeezing lightly. His hand remained there a few minutes more before he withdrew. Koshka turned off the lamp at her side and pulled the covers over herself.

Malcolm continued reading for a while, listening to the quiet sound of her breathing, and the deep russet tresses that peeked out from under the comforter. He could feel himself becoming tired, but still quivered with a delicious tension at the nearness of Koshka's presence, feeling the warmth of her body near his leg.

Making his way to the end of the magazine, he turned the light off after he set it aside. Staring up at the ceiling, he was tempted to play with himself. His hands curled into fists.

Puck kept himself in check, sinking deeper within his alternate identity, managing to get a few hours of sleep.

He felt the long-familiar tightness in his core as he squirmed around, taking a deep breath. A soft murmur escaped his throat as he settled back into sleep, his head pressing into the pillow. The pressure on his groin became more insistent, and he registered a faint glow through his eyelids. He opened his eyes to see early morning light angling into his room.

He became aware of a warm body spooned against his own, and a hand pressing against his groin, massaging it slowly. His eyelids fluttered as the fondling became more aggressive, and he caught a whiff of Koshka's perfume, recalling the events of last night.

 **(cutscene)**

"Bloody hell!" Puck snapped as he fell back onto the bed, looking at his boner. How tempting it would be to just reach down and finish himself off. She'd left him at the brink of fucking orgasm! Oh, just when he thought his kitten would be fun and sweet to play with, out come the claws. Well, she was a demon, after all.

"Fuck. Bloody fuck." He let out his breath in a slow huff as he again pondered the relief of instant gratification. But then there was Koshka, and having her bring him to orgasm was so much better than wanking off. It was not an easy choice, but Koshka had trusted him to make the right one, and he would not disappoint her.

 _I guess a cold shower it is, then_ , Puck sighed as he rose to his feet, feeling his erection bob as he did so. He would play her game, but he would have some fun of his own. When time came to claim his reward, he would make sure Koshka paid out in full.

o0o

The two dishes I mentioned Koshka cooking are authentic samples of Eastern European cuisine. I learned quite a few things doing research into cooking in the region! Some of the things I came across looked rather tasty! Nut rolls are also made in Croatia and is sometimes called walnut strudel.

If you enjoyed this story, please don't forget to leave a review. Feedback is greatly valued and appreciated, and is one of the things that motivate me to write. Hearing from my reviewers helps me grow as an author, so my stories can be even better!


	6. Chapter 5

**That Damn Imp**

 **V**

o0o

One day passed in heated impatience for Puck as he restrained himself from visiting Koshka as his true self. The delectably devious way Koshka had parted company with him the day before left him with plenty of pent-up energy, and no way he could properly express it. Normally, he would have just taken care of it himself, but Koshka's promise gave him pause. Thinking of the reward she'd promised him, while it made him aroused all over again, also gave him the patience – or at least, the bare minimum needed in this case – he needed to refrain from his self-ministrations.

A few cordial texts were exchanged between them. Another day passed. She made no mention of a time for their next date, and Puck was given pause, wondering if Koshka did this to other men on a regular basis? Nah. He had the feeling that she was not one to easily fall in bed with someone, and whatever she was doing now, was for… a reason. Why get someone all hot and bothered, and leave them like that? Perhaps as punishment, but he couldn't imagine having done anything to displease her.

There was the reward. Aha. Perhaps she was ensuring that he'd have plenty of pent-up need for their next date. Hadn't she promised he could be fierce with her? He remembered her responses when he'd taken control during their lovemaking. _Aha. You like it rough then, don't you, kitten? Well, then. I'm all yours. Two can play at this game, and I think we can share the victory_ , he mused as he stroked his chin.

Another day crept by. He considered going to her shop as Malcolm, to sell more coins for his 'client'. Would that be too obvious? Koshka had said that her weekend was going to be busy since she would be going to estate sales. He'd actually considered showing up at one, as if by chance. That was a tactic that could be used at another time if needed, and Puck decided to set it aside for the time being.

With his history with Koshka, great care had to be taken to ensure that she did not have the least suspicion of Malcolm's true nature. His relationship with her as Malcolm was still relatively new, and as was very clear, there was plenty to learn. He would wait to surprise her till later on, and have a good exercise in patience for the time being.

o0o

What is time to an immortal? It is not an oft-said, but well-remembered litany among the folk who do not fear death. Puck was a creature who had seen many centuries pass by, but each day that went by without seeing the feisty demon who had him in her thrall felt like an eternity.

Two more days went by, with some flirtatious texts and some light talk. Malcolm had kept himself controlled, keeping himself warm and open yet calm and reserved, not wishing to seem too pushy in seeing her again. He knew she had been busy, and that was how it was for mundane and magical folk alike. Finally, Puck could no longer hold his tongue when he woke up with a hardness between his legs that stirred when he rolled over under the blanket as he stretched. He'd been about to reach down, when he remembered her words.

He only had so much patience, and by mortal standards, nearly a week later seemed like an appropriate time to talk about their next night together. He'd become considerably more proficient in the use of his smartphone since he'd obtained it, and reached across the blanket for it.

' _I really need to see you, Koshka_ ' He paused as he looked down at what he had just typed. Fuck it. He deleted the message and dialed her number instead. He figured that perhaps around this time she would he having breakfast, or just setting out for the day.

It was only a couple of rings before he heard her voice. "Good morning!" she said cheerfully. Mmm. A vengeance demon in a good mood was a blessing.

"Good morning, kitten. I know you've been busy lately, but all work and no play… well, you know." He kept his voice calm, adding just a hint of flirtatiousness to the usual collected tone that Malcolm spoke in.

"Well, guess what? Today's your lucky day. I'm free tonight."

Puck felt his heart skip a beat. "What did you have in mind?" he asked.

"Well, since I cooked last time, why don't you take care of dinner tonight?"

Puck swallowed thickly, recalling his ineptitude with the mundane way of cooking.

"You picked such a good restaurant last time we ate out. I'm sure you can find a nice place for us."

The imp held back a soft sigh of relief. _No problem_. He'd already researched several places. "Sounds good to me. I think I have the perfect place in mind. What time works for you?"

"Mmm. Six?" she asked.

"I'll pick you up then." _Yes. Finally_. He leaned his head back, seeing the day unfold in front of him. Where could he take her? He'd been thinking of how to engage her in something that he enjoyed as the Puck. Playing Malcolm could be amusing at times, but the tall, blonde, bespectacled man was nothing more than a guise.

It'd finally hit him. Koshka had given him the answer on their first night together. She'd danced for him, and moved with the grace of experience and practice. Puck was a creature that loved music and dance, and to dance with this nimble-footed demon was sure to be a pleasure. He was very familiar with the dancing styles that had been the vogue through most of Europe for the last several thousand years. Many had passed into obscurity, or were only performed at ceremonies. However, several dances had managed to survive the ages…

"What if I asked you to wear a dress that is suited for dancing?" Malcolm asked.

"… Oh?" Koshka's voice had a lilt of curiosity. "You dance?"

"Dancing is an excellent way to exercise and maintain flexibility," came the slightly dry response in Malcolm's voice as Puck felt his lips twitch up into a faint smile.

"Well, the results are hard to argue with. I'll see you then. Looking forward to the dinner and dance."

"No more than I am," he shot back in a somewhat lighter tone. "See you then."

He sighed softly and leaned back, closing his eyes as he ran his hand down his stomach, stopping at his belt. Just hearing her voice had caused him to stir, and he took a deep breath.

It was easier to keep himself controlled in this shell, with the rules he'd created for his alter ego. He lifted his hand, running it along his short blonde hair.

o0o

Koshka smiled as she looked in the full-length mirror. She turned around, admiring the way the skirt swished around her legs. Oh, Malcolm was going to go _gaga_ over this. And if he'd been a good boy, he would have his reward. She smirked as she remembered the sight of him standing there with an erection, and no chance at relief, at least not from her. Just thinking about his boner sent a sear of arousal through her core. She hoped he had been a good boy, because then it would be even more fun for the two of them. She walked down the stairs and outside, waiting for him, looking quite the sight in her dress. The black silk and gossamer flowed down her legs, coming halfway down her calves. Her feet were laced up in black velvet pumps.

A black velvet bolero with a sky blue trim hugged the upper half of her body, keeping her warm against the brisk evening. Her hair was pinned up, a pair of light blue flowers adorning the upsweep of the ruby locks.

The now-familiar black town car slid to the curb, and Malcolm stepped out, as sharp as she expected, a red dress shirt complemented by a grey vest and a black suit.

"Good evening, Koshka." He took her into his arms, pressing his lips to her brow. She leaned against him, breathing in the scent of his cologne as she did so. She murmured a fond greeting before she backed away from him.

"You look ready for our night out. Have you... been a good boy?" she whispered, looking carefully at him to gauge his reaction.

"It has not been easy, I will admit. Thinking about you made me ache. But yes… I have earned the reward that you promised." His tone was even, masking his desire and excitement. "The night is young, shall we?" he asked, offering his arm. She took it, feeling a warm tingle as he squeezed his arm around her own.

He opened the door for her, and they seated themselves. Turning on some quiet classical music, he pulled into the street. She squirmed in her seat, shooting him an occasional glance as he drove. At appropriate intervals, like when they were at a red light, she would reach out and give his leg an affectionate squeeze. "I'm hungry for dinner, but I'm also hungry for you," she purred.

"Mmm, good to know. We should probably have dinner first though. Build up our energy." He drove them across the downtown area of the city. As they approached the restaurant, the crowds shrank, and mainstream businesses gave way to more ethnic fare. Though that didn't mean they were going to some traditional hole in the wall.

Casablanca was a trendy restaurant and dance bar, bathed in red lamplight from the evening's decor. Already, a handful of couples had taken to the dance floor, shaking and spinning with the upbeat Latin music. Thankfully, there wasn't much of a crowd; enough people to make things lively without them becoming stifling.

"You like?" Malcolm inquired, watching to gauge her reactions as they approached the building from the parking lot and were approached by the hostess.

"You might not be much of a cook, but you certainly do find nice places to feed me," Koshka smiled as they entered and were led over to a comfortable alcove that had a view of the dance floor. It surprised her that he'd mentioned dancing, since she hadn't imagined the uptight, reserved blonde to have any interest in dancing. The equipment at his house made her think that lifting weights and mixed martial arts were the sole basis of his exercise regimen.

She certainly was not about to complain, of course. Though Koshka was a creature of the East unlike Puck, she was still familiar with enough of Western Europe to appreciate the genuine Spanish touches to this place. Whoever had designed this place obviously knew at least a thing or two about Portugal and Spain. The menu also featured many examples of authentic cuisine from both Spain and Latin America, instead of the usual Tex-Mex crap that many "Latin" restaurants offered.

"I like to think that despite the difference in our culinary skills, our palates share a certain level of refinement." he commented. She smiled, and he smiled back before a waiter approached, handing them menus and depositing a bowl of home-baked tortilla chips with a Spanish tomato sauce comparable to salsa. "Perhaps a bottle of sangria to start us off?" he asked. She nodded, and the waiter retreated from the table as they discussed meal options.

"I think I'll start off with a small bowl of gazpacho. It's been far, far too long since I've been able to enjoy some real Spanish cuisine." When was the last time she was in Spain? Sixty, maybe seventy years ago? Of course, she couldn't mention that to Malcolm, him being a human and all. Oh well. They looked up as the waiter returned with the wine and a couple of glasses, pouring for them.

"Great choice. I'll have the escudella, then." Malcolm selected the hot soup. He didn't see the charm in a cold soup like gazpacho, but to each their own. "Some patatas bravas too. As for the main course, I think I will have the garlic lemon chicken, and some Valencian paella."

"Chicken sounds great, but without the paella."

The server nodded and retreated, leaving them to enjoy their drinks and chips.

"You really do look beautiful tonight. Already caught a few of the people out there," he cocked his head toward the dance floor, "staring. Can't say I blame them, of course." he reached out to gently stroke the back of her hand, which had been resting on the table. On her wrist were several slim silver bands and one with several diamonds mounted along it. His thumb caressed the her own, and she smiled faintly.

"I know they're checking you out too. And you do look rather sharp tonight. Although I can't wait to get that clothing off you," she added with a wiggle of her eyebrows. With a small, dignified lift of his chin, he straightened his black and dark red tie before he relaxed a bit.

"Your appreciation is duly noted. As is your… desire." The corner of his lip quirked up in the faintest of smiles.

"Well, you were quite the sight when I left your apartment the other day. I'll admit that memory does get me aroused..." She smirked before she took a sip. "Though I do appreciate your mind, I won't deny that just the sight of you is very... pleasing, regardless of what you're wearing. or not wearing."

"The feeling's mutual, of course." Malcolm sipped his wine, dividing his attention between admiring her and watching the dancing. People-watching was, more often than not, rather amusing, and he noted that Koshka was enjoying the same activity, her eyes half-lidded as she watched the other patrons.

Before long, their appetizers arrived, and Koshka took a sip of her soup, nodding in approval before plucking a potato off his plate. He picked up a piece himself, enjoying the solid crunch of the outside and the softness of innards.

"So after we eat, we gonna get out there and show them how it's done?"

"Honestly, I'm surprised you suggested dancing. It's kind of hard to imagine you letting loose, I'll admit. But we'll see what happens." She had the feeling that he wouldn't have suggested dancing if he wasn't already confident in it. Breaking up a few of the tortilla chips into the soup, she idly ate it while studying him as he sat staring out at the floor. The slightly muted lighting in the alcove cast shadows that highlighted the fineness of Malcolm's face, and the skilled construction of his features with the aquiline Roman nose and a lean yet strong jaw. His appearance could argue for the existence of a God, given the rest of him and how… perfectly he seemed to have been created, as if said deity had taken extra time and care in his making.

As their soups and appetizer were running low, their dinner appeared. The hot meal after the cold soup was refreshing, and she sat back, savoring the spices on the chicken.

"Well hopefully I can keep on surprising you." He took several bites of his meal, enjoying the chef's obvious culinary skills. "How is everything?"

"Fabulous. You've done your research." She easily shared the wine, relaxing and having a good time. "I can't remember the last person I've enjoyed their company so much," she admitted as she finished off her chicken.

"Excellent," he smirked, finishing off another glass of wine. He stretched beneath the table, running a foot slowly up her leg. His expression conveyed none of the teasing, the movement hidden by the tablecloth. She let out a small sigh and leaned back a bit, allowing the food to digest as she sipped some water. As she felt his foot, she scooted closer to him, ostensibly to be able to see the dance floor better. Her foot responded to his playing, her toes sliding along his ankle and calf.

He trailed his foot higher, pushing aside the fabric of her dress, raising his eyebrows suggestively. He watched the dance floor, tapping his fingers with the rhythm of the music, doing well to conceal the teasing beneath the table. "I've always liked salsa music," he commented. "So very passionate."

She raised her eyebrow. "How about flamenco, or tango?" She shivered at the gentle caress, though remained outwardly calm, finishing off her glass of wine. After a bit longer, she slid off her jacket and rose to her feet. "Ready to show m your moves?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye

"You've seen my moves," he raised his eyebrows suggestively. "But we can do some dancing." He slid his jacket off, draping it across the back of his chair.

He took her hand, and they they moved into the open space. The current song wound down, and a new one started up. She started swaying to the beat, getting a feel of rhythm. She was more used to Middle Eastern and Russian dancing, but music was music, and the Spanish music had a beat she enjoyed. Her hips swayed, the skirt swishing around her shapely legs.

Malcolm seemed to know his way around the dance floor, putting a hand to her hip, leading, guiding and occasionally copping a subtle feel. For someone so stoic, he could really move with the music, showing off a grace that he normally reserved for their time in the bedroom. All the while, he offered her smiles and passionate glances over the rims of his glasses. She was quick to pick up the steps from him as he easily guided her, his feet moving with the surety of long practice.

She pressed up against him, dancing almost cheek to cheek as they moved to the tempo of the music. As the crescendo increased, she moved closer to him, letting him hold her more tightly while allowing enough room for their feet to move. He moved with increasing proof of skill, seeming to let the music lead him without thinking, her pulse picking up on both the tempo and his desire for her. She could almost _taste_ the nervous energy that was thrumming from him. It thrilled her to no end to know that he had pined for her, and had exercised patience for her reward. Oh, he would be rewarded well.

She rode on the music, having quickly memorized the pattern, letting Malcolm spin or dip her at intervals. The night went on, they danced on, feet quickly moving across the floor. Eventually others stopped to watch, and then a song that was perfect for tango came on. She pressed herself against him again, dancing cheek to cheek as the two of them reveled in this passionate dance.

o0o

For all their differences, Venjanca and Puck had at least one thing in common. Music and dance nurtured them, and they found a valuable channel of self-expression within the union of sound and motion. The imp took no small amount of pleasure in how well his stratagem worked, and enjoyed the way her feet moved around his, the way her swaying hips felt under his hands, and the gleam in her eyes as he spun her around or pulled her to himself.

Malcolm leaned his head down and growl or whisper in her ear. "They look at us and admire us. Many of them wish they had either of us, or perhaps both, in their beds. But I am yours. All my dances belong to you." Beads of sweat were beginning to form on his brow, and despite Puck's superhuman strength, Malcolm was still a shell of flesh and blood. Puck had given his human guise the same responses to stress as an ordinary if _very_ healthy and fit human.

She was beginning to sweat as well, though with their rapid movements and spins they barely noticed. He could feel the fast beat of her heart as they continued the dance, pressing against one another at intervals. He was semi-hard in his pants, hard enough to let her feel, but not for others to see. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, the skirt swishing wildly around her legs when he spun her around, and when the song finally ended, she was in his arms in a dip. Over the sound of her heartbeat, she heard a few claps and whistles.

Malcolm stood her up and offered a dramatic bow to the crowd, stopping himself from giving a flourish with his hand. That would be too… _Puckish_ , he warned himself. "Your adoring fans," he murmured, nudging her teasingly, pulling her into an embrace. He leaned in, kissing her lips with a low murmur, drawing another round of applause from the crowd.

She melted into the kiss before pulling away from him, her cheeks rosy, her chest heaving a bit. The dancing had her blood pumping in more ways than one, and he was eager to revel in her heat.

 **(cutscene)**

o0o

In the morning, as promised, Koshka slid out of bed to start breakfast, quickly pulling on a loose kimono of dark red and green. Leaving the bedroom door open let her cats come into the bedroom, and she smiled at them as they rubbed against her legs for attention before climbing into bed with her lover. They purred and slunk against his sleeping form, kneading his chest before settling down on top of him as she moved around in the kitchen, cooking some eggs and bacon with toast.

As the rich, warm smell of bacon filled the apartment, Malcolm emerged from the bedroom, a blanket wrapped around his shoulder. As they faced one another, he did not disguise his appreciation of the sight of the fabric hugging her body, wiggling his eyebrows a bit as he did so.

"Well look at you. I've half a mind to just toss you onto the kitchen table. Breakfast would probably burn but still," he looked her over again, and she was certain he had become hard beneath the blanket, "damn."

"Really? I thought you had both hands full of pussy in the bedroom," she grinned, having seen him cuddling with the cats while she was checking on him. He met her grin with a small smile and a twinkle in his eyes. He closed in on her, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly. She relaxed into his embrace. And gave out a soft murmur as his hands slid to her breasts to massage them.

However, there were more pressing concerns, and Koshka pulled away from him to take the bacon and eggs out of their pans. Several pieces of toast sat ready to be buttered. As she'd promised, there was plenty of bacon. There was a couple of minutes of companionable silence as she poured them coffee and he put a couple heaping spoonfuls of scrambled egg and several pieces of bacon on a slice of toast.

She let out a contented sigh as she bit into a piece of crispy bacon. What was it about bacon that made it so irresistible? She'd tried various meat through the ages, but nothing could rival hot, fried strips of pork belly.

"I hope you have plenty of bacon. I'm going to want to ravish you after breakfast, you know. Isn't protein a good source of energy and all?" Malcolm commented in a slightly dry tone. She met his clear blue eyes.

"I did buy two packs of it when I went shopping. I'll be happy to fry up the second one later."

"Sex and bacon, what more could anyone ask for?"

"I knew there was a reason I liked you," Koshka replied with a gleam in her eyes.


	7. Chapter 6

**That Damn Imp**

 **VI**

o0o

Koshka sat back comfortably as she savored a spoonful of the mint-and-Oreo gelato he'd bought for her. She glanced over to her left, seeing him enjoy his own treat. They'd gone to a museum opening, which ended up being drier than either of them had anticipated, so they'd left early and gone for a walk before deciding to pick up a cool treat on this surprisingly warm night. The heat wasn't even on despite the weather that could be expected at this time of the year, and she slid her feet out of her shoes before stretching her legs across the dashboard of Malcolm's car.

As she expected, her lover did not hide his admiration, and she saw a faint smile on his face as his gaze moved to her toes clad in thin black silk. His eyes made a slow journey along her ankles and shapely calves and past her knee to reveal the top of the stocking, black lace peeking from under a skirt that Koshka let slide down her leg as she shifted around on her seat.

He slowly raised his spoon to his mouth as his gaze moved back up her leg. She continued eating as if there was nothing out of the ordinary, seeing the reflection of the moon and the streetlights across the river in the water. They'd chosen a parking spot in one of the lots along the river, a bit of keep-away magic cast by her guaranteed to keep away any nosy humans who might wander too close, suddenly reminding the mundane folk that they had something to do at another location, urgently.

The car was filled with quiet music for several minutes as they finished off their gelato, Malcolm more focused on her legs than the eddying water in front of them. She set her empty container in the paper bag that the food had come in, and slid her hand to his knee, still staring out at the water. He took another spoonful of his dessert as she slid her hand up his leg by several inches. There was a slight flex of muscle, but Malcolm showed no other reaction as he finished off his treat.

Only after he discarded his container did he let her meet his gaze, and to no surprise, they were glazed over with desire. Malcolm might take pride in being a refined man, collected in his body language, but all Koshka had to do was look into his eyes to see his passion for her. She felt his hand rest on top of her own. The radio continued crooning soft classical music as they stared into one another's eyes.

Her hand slid further up his leg, now massaging his thigh, and she studied his facial expression to gauge his reaction. Would he be too stiff to be receptive anywhere besides the privacy of their homes? Malcolm had proven himself an excellent lover, but his rigidity, especially in public areas, led to a restraint she had rarely seen in any other male – mundane or magical alike. She'd hinted at trying other places outside the confines of their apartments, but he seemed reticent to the idea. Hopefully she could help him get over that…

"You're going to get me going," he spoke softly. "Maybe we should head back. I can't guarantee that I'll be able to drive safely if I'm all hot and bothered."

"Well, we're alone right now. We have all the privacy we need." She gave his thigh another squeeze before her hand slid up a bit more, now only inches from his groin. "A bed is nice, but you know what they say, variety is the spice of life." There was a touch of hopefulness in her tone.

The handsome blonde looked around the car, a hint of nervousness creasing his brow. He throbbed beneath his slacks, unable to keep that in check with her attention, not that she expected him to. "Not the most comfortable place for it. There are some hotels not too far from here. I'm sure we could find a nice one." She could almost swear she saw a glint of amusement in his eyes before he looked off thoughtfully.

"Have you ever examined a hotel room with a blue light? All the disgusting stains you find..." She gave out a shudder." I'd be much more comfortable in our own beds than in one that countless strangers have slept in. Besides, what's wrong with this car? It's a very nice car, and the backseat has plenty of room..." Her hand slid up further, now barely a centimeter away from his groin, the weight of her hand pressing the slacks around the tip of his manhood.

"It's..." he considered this for a moment, "just not what I'm accustomed to. Limited room. Risk of getting caught. I believe they write tickets for this kind of thing. Public indecency or the like." For all his talk, his desire was all too apparent.

"If a police officer comes upon us, I'll take full responsibility, mmkay?" Koshka asked with a grin, her hand now sliding over his manhood and rubbing it firmly, feeling it twitch and harden further in his pants. She moved closer, leaning against him and nibbling along his ear and neck, inhaling the scent of his cologne.

o0o

 **(cutscene)**

o0o

It'd been one hell of a night, Koshka mused with contentment as she sat in her parked car, casually glancing at the wooded park that was a block away from the McDonald's that she had just purchased her late lunch from. She'd been to a couple of estate sales, and now was the owner of several boxes in the backseat filled with items she'd found at said sales. Some she would sell in her shop, others were for her personal hoard. Her store was closed for the day, so she simply relaxed, dipping a fry into her Shamrock smoothie.

She picked up her phone and looked at the picture she'd taken with Malcolm last night at the museum, with a display they both particularly liked behind them. Normally, she wasn't for selfies, but it was a beautiful picture that showed an happy couple in front of an interesting piece, and she decided to send him a text.

' _I know it's only been half a day, but I miss you fiercely. 3 3 3 Can't wait to see you again!_ ' She looked down at the message before hitting Send. Last night and this morning had been glorious. She was falling for Malcolm, hard. No, she had already fallen for him. She'd had various lovers through the centuries, human and demon alike, and there really was no one like Malcolm.

Idly, she took another sip of her smoothie as she stared at the picture again, before a long-familiar voice shattered her reverie. She glared across the passenger seat to see Puck peering at her through the partially-open window. He was clad in human clothing, his ears glamored to look normal.

"So… what are you doing?" He grinned at her, looking a handsome sight in a comfortable linen shirt, a brown jacket with several patches of eclectic fabrics – including a square of deep red satin – and close-fitting dark gray jeans. The clothing was tailored to his lean frame, the pants lightly hugging his shapely thighs and hinting at what lay between his legs…

 _Ah, damnit_ , Koshka fumed. She pulled her attention away from the imp.

"Sending me a text admitting how much you want me?" he commented flippantly as he regarded her scowl.

She quickly put her phone down and glared at him. "Somehow, I doubt you have a smartphone. What brings you here?" she asked dryly, taking a sip of her shake.

"Like I couldn't get a phone," he scoffed, testing the door, and finding it unlocked, slipped into the vehicle, planting his rear end against the deep red velvet. "Seriously though, what you doing? Not texting another man are you?" Puck sniffled, offering his best puppy-dog eyes. "I thought we had something special." He placed his hands under his chin in a theatrical gesture.

She narrowed her eyes at the imp before giving out a long-suffering sigh. "You're an intelligent if... immature creature, Puck. Surely you're not that deluded, are you? I've said no to you a thousand times, and I will say it a thousand and one times more if need be."

"Playing hard to get," he nodded thoughtfully, quickly shucking his forlorn expression and taking on a mien of professionalism, as if making a diagnosis. "I've seen it a million times before. And I was joking," he lowered his voice to a teasing whisper. "You do know what a joke is, right? Though I do think this is pretty special," he gestured to the two of them ensconced in the relative comfort and privacy of her car, his nod becoming more eager.

"We have differing senses or humor. You do not amuse me," Koshka replied dryly, tapping her chin as she took a moment to ponder her next comment, "If you're so hungry for attention, there's several gay bars in this city I'm sure you'd be very welcome in. You have that twink look working for you, the men there will be swarming all over you."

"I'm not in the mood for a man," he shrugged. "You know what I want. But you know, I am starting to think that, just _maaaybeee_ , the feeling isn't mutual. So you think I'm immature. You probably have a type, huh? Prim and proper? Suit and tie? A real stick in the mud sort? Yeah, I can see you going for one of that type." He slumped into the seat, his head lolling against the bottom of the headrest.

Koshka paused, trying to not let a bit of shock show. He couldn't know, could he? She'd cast a spell around Malcolm to protect him. "And what if that _is_ my type?" she asked with a deliberately casual tone. "Excuse me for liking the mature, adult type. Responsibility is good for you, you know," she said in a lecturing tone.

"Hey, I've been responsible for millions of perfectly executed pranks, you know. I can be responsible. You just like 'em boring," he crossed his arms in mock frustration. "I can see the conversation now. I see that you like money. I like money too. And adulting. And more money." he said in a mock deep, gruff yet carefully-pronounced tone.

"And what's wrong with someone having the same hobbies as you?" she quipped, biting back a laugh... his comment _had_ been clever. But then, his wit was one of the things that enabled her to tolerate him, at least at times.

"Money's not a hobby. Spending money's a hobby. Earning money is work."

"Treasure-collecting is a hobby for me, you know. It's a perfectly legitimate activity that one can have fun with." she said, wagging her finger before taking the last few fries.

"We could go treasure collecting sometime," he suggested, grinning. "Like pirates. What do you say? Let me plunder some booty?" He giggled at his own quip, leaning back against the seat, kicking his legs.

She bit her lip to hide a smile, something Puck did not miss. "If you mean a serious expedition... I might be willing to consider it. As for booty... my answer remains ever the same. No."

"You're no fun," he went back to pouting, crossing his arms and sticking out his lower lip. "Not yet anyway. But I'll wear you down even if it takes another thousand years. Date your boring, business-suit types for now. Eventually, you're going to get sick of them and want me. Who knows? Maybe we'll even do it in the car," Puck grinned, rocking back and forth, now hugging his knees to his chest and wiggling his eyebrows at her.

At that, the demon knew for certain that Pick knew. Her shock and rage caused the smoothie to explode out of the cup, splattering a good amount of the car, and the two of them, in a pale but bright-green chemical-color that contrasted sharply with the burgundy velvet of the interior. She blinked and stared for several seconds, her hand shaking and crushing the cup, causing more smoothie to drip down her arm, which did nothing to improve her disposition. Her eyes glowed blue for a moment before turning red.

"Whoa, whoa!" Puck put his hands up, shrinking into the corner, against the door. "You don't wanna do it in the car. Fine. No need to go all demon-crazy." Despite his apparent concern, Puck reached a hand over, a finger dipping into the spilled smoothie on her arm then slipping between his lips. "That's pretty good. You should cheer up before you spill more."

"You... look what you did. You made a mess of my car." Koshka said with a deep growl. "Mark my words, Goodfellow, if you so much as lay one finger on him, or harm or humiliate him in _any_ way, misery and pain will hound you to the end of your days."

"Him? Who? What?" he gasped, covering his mouth, "you _do_ have a boring, white-bread boyfriend. I knew it! What's his name? Something dull like Bob or John or Tim? Does he always have that serious look on his face like you get?" Puck gestured to her face. "Yeah, that's the one."

"What makes you think I'm answering anything about him?" the redheaded demon growled. "My affairs are of my own, and I will not tolerate any meddling! This is no way to try to get into my good graces!" With that, she reached out and poured what remained of her smoothie on his head, watching the green milk slide down his hair. Immature, yes, but it gave her a tiny amount of satisfaction. Her lips started to quirk into a grin but she bit it back.

"Gah!" Puck cried out at the smoothie, though his focus quickly turned back to the matter at hand. He sighed. "I'm not going to bother him. I like you. I don't _try_ to piss you off. It just..." his voice got a bit smaller, "happens anyway."

The ancient but powerful fae snapped his fingers and the mess disappeared from the vehicle. The trickster soon followed, quickly returning with a heart-shaped box of minty chocolates. "Here. Peace offering. I'm sorry," he murmured the last couple words, a rare phrase from the trickster and not easily said. He looked sufficiently chastened, his eyes locked in a downward gaze, his head bowed in a penitent manner.

Her eyes turned back to normal, and she stared at him for several moments, surprise overriding anger. She was quiet for a couple of seconds while she noted the cleanliness of the car and her person, before nodding. "Promise me you won't bother him," Koshka pressed, though her voice was softer and more reasonable than before, but no less firm. Puck was infamous for finding all sorts of loopholes.

"I promise," he nodded. "No bothering, no harming. He won't have any reason to worry about me, you have my word. But can I be his friend?" he asked, grin returning. "That could be fun, huh? You, me, and Mr. Stick-in-the-Mud hanging out together. Imagine the possibilities." He raised his eyebrows suggestively, his grin growing wider.

"I thought such people were boring to you," she commented. For a moment, she entertained the thought of the three of them together, before quickly banishing that thought. "No. He's mine, and I don't want to share him." She opened the chocolates, taking one. "But hey, I'll share _this_."

"There's gotta be something interesting about him. You're not really into guys that are _completely_ dull, are you? Alright, fine," he said with a sigh. "Keep Mr. Boring to yourself," he nabbed an offered chocolate.

"And that's all I'm giving you, remember that," she added in a stern tone to emphasize that she didn't want him around Malcolm.

"You know, if you wanted to be really persuasive..." Puck raised his eyebrows suggestively again. Before she could reply, he put up his hands. "I'm kidding. No other sharing. Just chocolates."

She let him have a couple more pieces of candy, and surprisingly, he was silent, almost pensive. When he wasn't talking, he was almost tolerable, she mused. She glanced at her phone while Puck enjoyed his candy. He really was cute, in a charming way. It was not the first time she'd thought that, and it would not be the last. No messages, she put her phone back down.

After finishing the candy, Puck sat in thoughtful, uncharacteristic silence for a few moments. Then, he sighed. "Well, I'm sure you want to get back to Mr. Stick-in-the-Mud. I suppose I can let you be for awhile. Thanks for the chocolate."

She allowed herself a small smile at that. "You know, when you're more like this, I find you easier to tolerate. Have a nice day." She said it in a kind way, instead of sarcasm as she might have said at other times

"Yeah, you too," he replied softly, a faint smile on his lips, the compliment bringing a faint blush to his cheeks. "Bye." With that he vanished after wiggling his fingers in farewell and sweeping his arm in a flourish.

o0o

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	8. Chapter 7

**That Damn Imp**

 **VII**

o0o

Though Malcolm generally presented himself as a straitlaced man with a collected manner, he had proven himself more than capable of enjoying the great outdoors. As good as he looked in one of his suits, there was an appeal to seeing him in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, his muscles flexing under the material.

He'd suggested a camping trip, producing a pair of kayaks and all the gear they needed for reasonable comfort. They'd rowed up a river in the state park, going where visitors generally were not allowed… but that was the advantage to having magic. They pulled the boats ashore and set up camp at a spot he'd found while idly exploring this park earlier as Puck. They set up camp, and went for a hike.

Koshka was clad in a comfortable dark red sweatshirt and pants combo, with a black tank top underneath, the straps of a red sports bra peeking out. Her ass also looked great under the snug cotton, panty lines faintly visible when she lifted her leg.

There were several steep places along the trail, and she climbed up one, giving her lover another nice view of her rear end before she turned around to offer him a helping hand.

Even as Malcolm, the woods were home to Puck. He reveled at the opportunity to explore nature with his lover, and a chance to get out of the suits and ties that were practically Malcolm's uniform. He had selected a pair of comfortable blue jeans, a gray t-shirt, and a dark green sweatshirt that hugged his shoulders.

He regarded her with a smile as he took the proffered hand, allowing her to help hum up. His thumb rubbed against her hand, and it was a gesture he repeated whenever they assisted one another along the trail. When he went ahead of her briefly, he took the opportunity to hold her close for several moments after he'd helped her up the rock.

Finally, they came to their end point, which was the summit of the highest area in the park. Here they'd take a break and just relax for a while, before hiking back to camp. She looked around, taking a deep breath, feeling the burn of exertion as she stared out at the vista before her, seeing the river sparkle in the distance amidst the trees. She set down her backpack as she sat on a low, flat rock, pulling out water, packets of Propel powder, protein bars, and string cheese. A touch of her magic had kept the water and cheese cold.

She took off her sweatshirt and tied it around her middle, the day had started out chilly but her exercise had warmed her. She might not be human, but the human shell she'd formed around her demon form experienced the same thing as humans did.

"That certainly was invigorating," Malcolm said from behind her, and she turned to see him pouring the contents of a strawberry-kiwi flavor packet into his water.

"We really need to do this more often," Koshka replied lightly as she added some grape Propel to her water, taking a long swig. She looked up at Malcolm's handsome face. It'd been months since they'd met, and she found herself falling hard for him even now. But what would he say if he knew the truth about her? She looked away, a pensive expression on her face as she took a stick of cheese.

"Mhmm," he nodded, laying back on the rock, locking his hands behind his head. "It's peaceful out here. No one else for miles," Malcolm nudged her playfully, smiling.

"My, Malcolm!" Koshka said, with a mock gasp and flutter of her hands. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting? You, out in this place with the... dirt. And the bugs!"

"Well… as for the dirt and bugs," he adjusted his glasses, "it's not like I'll be focused on them anyway." His gaze moved along her body in open desire before looking up to make eye contact, and she felt a pleasant flutter in her stomach.

"Who are you, and what have you done with Malcolm?" Koshka asked in mock dismay, before laughing and leaning down to place a kiss on his lips. She slid her hand under his shirt, nails lightly scraping along his stomach.

"Is it that surprising?" he murmured, leaning into her nails. His arms slid around her, his own nails trailing down her back, his hands finding their way to her ass. He squeezed firmly, pulling her even tighter against him. She wiggled against him, nibbling his ear, knowing that never failed to get him going.

After coupling several times, they were finally done, tangled together in a jumble of limbs. Koshka's pants had come off all the way, and Malcolm was wearing nothing but his t-shirt. "Much fun as being in bed is, this was a lot of fun, too," Koshka said with a grin as she rumpled his shirt hair.

"Mmm... yeah it was," he murmured, playfully tossing a leaf onto Koshka's bare chest. "We'll have to do this more often too."

"I guess we got lucky that no one came up this way," Koshka teased.

"Didn't realize you were thinking so much about that," Malcolm teased back, running a hand sensually down her body. "The risk of getting caught get you all hot and bothered?"

"No, it's just that I prefer you be the only one to see all this." She gestured to her body, wiggling at him

"Not into being watched, hmm?" he asked, running his hand back up her, nipping, kissing and groping playfully.

"Admit it, you want this all to yourself," she said with a playful growl

"I certainly don't want to share," he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing tightly.

She smiled gently at that, thinking of her concerns for their future together. She could always just keep her demon form a secret, and settle into an ordinary life with Malcolm. But then he would grow old and die, eventually. A soft sigh escaped her lips. "You know I care about you very much, right?" Koshka whispered

"I know," he murmured, loosening his grip just slightly. One of his hands worked its way up, toying with her hair. "The feeling's mutual," he offered, a soft smile on his lips.

"What do you think of our future together?" she asked gently, trailing a finger along his jaw

He paused to consider that for a moment. "I think it'll certainly be interesting," he offered, teasingly nipping in the direction of her finger. "So far, I've just been letting things go wherever they go. Seems to be working out alright, don't you think?"

She smiled and nodded. "It certainly has." This was the first time they'd veered into this important subject. "I've been having a lot of fun, but I also don't want to lose you."

"I don't want that either," he replied, giving her another squeeze. "For what it's worth, no matter what happens, I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."

She gave out a small laugh at that. "Good to know." She spooned up to him, wrapping an arm around his middle.

o0o

Puck lay beside her, content to simply listen to her breathing as she dozed, snuggled next to him within the safety of the tent. Shopping for this trip made him wish that he could use his magic, but that would destroy the illusion. Fortunately, playing at being human was nothing new to him, so he'd been able to procure various items with relative ease. A tent, the kayaks and sleeping bags, food items, a couple of games, fuel and other emergency supplies, and so on.

He'd looked to several sources for information on what the modern-day human was supposed to take on a camping trip, and Malcolm's proclivity for thoroughness and organization had ensured that he was well-prepared for the various needs that they came across.

Still, it could be a pain in the ass hauling it around. He'd been all too tempted to simply wave things to and fro as he climbed the terrain from riverbank to campsite with a heavy pack strapped to his back.

The sleeping form next to him had made all that effort worthwhile, as Puck would readily admit. The night before, cooking marshmallows over the fire and making S'mores had led to another lovemaking session. No other woman had ever held his undivided attention. Puck was not a cruel lover, but his attentions were generally fleeting. He'd never found that special someone.

Until now, he mused. He could easily see himself settling down with her as Malcolm, and playing house with her… but then questions would come up. He could pretend to grow old, or reveal his true nature. It'd been nearly half a year, and their bond had only deepened. He knew that she deserved to know the truth. Yet, that truth could bring their relationship to an end.

Carefully, he crept outside, starting the fire and starting a pot of coffee. Boiling water was one of the few things Puck could do in the mundane way. Despite his efforts, he simply was unable to master anything more than a basic level of cooking and food preparation. Good thing Koshka was an accomplished cook. Still, he took pride in the small things he could do, like making sandwiches, or boiling water, or sticking popcorn in the microwave. As he waited for the water to come to a boil, he reclined in one of the two camp chairs he'd brought. Settling down on the configuration of canvas and rods, he stretched out his long legs and watched the sun come over the hills across the river.

His name met his ears, and Puck came out of his reverie, his exposed skin sun-warmed. He blinked and languorously turned his head as he heard Koshka calling out his name again, gently.

"Out here. I thought I'd start us off with some coffee," he responded.

The flaps rustled before Koshka opened them, tying them to the sides to admit fresh air into the tent. Her hair was slightly rumpled, and like him, she was clad in a shirt and sweatpants. She approached him from behind, draping herself across the back of his chair and nuzzling the side of his face as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

He basked in the friendly affection as he felt her hand run along his short-cropped blonde hair. He had considered growing it out longer, but she seemed to enjoy running her palm along the clipped locks, so he maintained the hairstyle for his human aspect.

Her other hand slid along his chest, rubbing his solar plexus and abs through his dark green shirt.

"I can think of another excellent pick-me-up in the morning." Her breath was hot against his ear.

"Oh?" he asked in feigned innocence, though he was already experiencing stirrings of lust, the heat in his core tightened upon her first touch. The morning sun, the fresh air, the scent of the woods and flowers… it invigorated the Puck. He was a creature of nature, and could pose well enough as Malcolm, but it was out in the wild that he was in his element. Away from structures of steel, glass, and concrete, from circulated air and artificial smells and electronic devices and gas-powered vehicles, it was hard for the imp to not find his human shell confining.

Out in these woods, he wanted to frolic and zip about and play. But he was Malcolm. And lovemaking did provide an excellent outlet for his pent-up energy…

"But if we're going to have energy for the day, we should have coffee. And a proper breakfast, of course," Malcolm teased, his voice dry as he feigned ignorance of his lover's tactics.

"Would you rather have a granola bar… or this?" She pressed her lips to the side of his neck.

"But if we use up all our energy now, we won't have any left for the hike, or kayaking further upstream," he pointed out, though he did not hold back a pleased shudder. And if she cared to look downward, she would see the clear evidence of desire within his sweatpants. The tent they had just been sleeping in was not the only one that was pitched here in the clearing…

"I'm sure we'll find a way to do it all," she purred as she nibbled just below his ear. He groaned softly and tilted his head to the side, offering her further access.

The crush that he had been nursing for the demoness for many centuries was blossoming into love, of that Puck had no doubt. Restricted to admiring her from afar for so long, getting to know her up and close only deepened his affection and respect for her. He chose to push aside the thought of potential consequences, and simply live in the moment as he surrendered to Koshka's attentions.

o0o

Constantinople, Eastern Roman Empire, mid-5th century CE

A century ago, Constantine, the emperor of Rome at that time, moved the capitol of the Roman Empire to Constantinople, and though considered foolish by some, history would prove the wisdom of this decision. The Western Roman Empire was fragmenting ushering the West into its Dark Ages. The glory of the Western Roman Empire was no more, eclipsed by the Eastern Roman Empire, which would become known as the Byzantine Empire.

In the year 453 CE, it would be nearly a century before the rule of Emperor Justinian and his honored wife, Empress Theodora Augusta. Over two hundred years before Mohammed spread the message of Islam through the Middle East, which comprised a good part of Byzantium. Three and a half centuries would pass before Irene of Athens had her son blinded so that she could rule Byzantium under her own right, leading to the rise of Karolus Magnus in the West and further the divide between Western and Eastern Europe, setting the continent into diverse paths through the Middle Ages and onward.

Constantinople would remain the jewel of the Empire until its conquest by the Ottomans one thousand years later. Even under the succession of governments that would hold this city, eventually renaming it Istanbul, this famed metropolis remained integral to the course of history.

Seated between two seas – the Marmara and Black – and straddling Europe and Asia, Constantinople served a political and economical need for a region of considerable size, and it was for that reason that after the decline of the West, many fae and demons would migrate east for power and territory. In due time, Greek would replace Latin as the official language of this empire, but in the fifth century CE, Latin remained the most popular language, giving the magical beings of the Isles the surrounding lands a common ground with many of their Eastern counterparts.

A friend of one of Emperor's Marcian's peers was having a grand party, with many important members of the high society, among businessmen and the like as guests. There was also a relatively decent amount of fae and demon, all in human guise as they attended the party. Koshka – known as Ekdisiki at that time and place – was among their numbers. It was whispered among the nobility that she granted the wounded a means for vengeance, but Ekdisiki was a woman shrouded in mystery. Her wealth was considerable if her attire was any indication, and her gaze promised either pleasure or violence.

She did not openly move within political circles and she was not known to be affiliated with any of the Emperor's favorites, but those who tried to cross her found her a force to be reckoned with. Even demons and fae gave her a wide berth, for she was ancient, her primal power only having increased through the ages, unaffected by the advent of the way of the Christ.

The red-haired woman, her pale eyes ringed with a tasteful amount of kohl, mingled with the guests, taking measure of the people she saw, overhearing conversations. She took an almond pastry from the passing tray of a serving maid, nibbling on it until she took notice of a young man with flowing dark hair and an impish look, move among the guests.

At first she would have dismissed him as the son of one of the guests, or perhaps a lover, but she paused as she sensed magic. Old and powerful, on par with her own, if not more, and she paused as she studied the handsome young man move among the guests. His attire was simple, yet elegant, with the sparkle of a ring on his pinky, and the goldwork of his belt. His frame was lithe, and he did not appear any taller than herself. For someone she was certain was ancient, he looked so young.

Was he here for power or territory? With the fragmentation of civilization in the West, some magical beings, often referred to as gods or spirits among fae and demons – migrated East, looking for a new life among the diverse people of Eurasia. But those were beings of considerably lesser power, whose lifespans would come to an end, eventually. Not one such as this, she was certain.

 _'s not going to like this_ , she mused. The powerful demon had taken a firm foothold here in Constantinople, establishing himself as the leader of the magical underworld around these parts. He tolerated lesser magic beings here as long as they followed his laws and did not cause undue discord among the human population.

As she studied him, she hovered around the periphery, watching as he slipped in and out of conversations with glib comments, leaving either delighted laughter or bemused glances in his wake. His hair was long and glossy, black like a raven's wing, and his eyes, when she managed to catch sight of them, were a bright hazel, amber interspersed with gold and green. A wisp of a mustache clung to his upper lip.

Upon ordinary glance, he was simply a good-looking teenager or young man who apparently had the gift of charm and charisma. The colors he'd attired himself in were festive but not ostentatious, green, red, and dark orange with accents of gold threading and buttons.

After several minutes, the young man – or old spirit – plucked a honeyed date from a tray and turned around, his gaze meeting hers.

o0o

Puck was known for his lighthearted ways, but he was an ancient creature of great wisdom… even if he might not always choose to utilize said wisdom. In taking his human guise, he had hidden most of his magical aura, something a being of his power found easy to accomplish. He left just enough 'visible' to the right eyes so that other magical beings would be able to sense him here when coming in close enough proximity.

How they chose to respond to that glimmer of magic would give him a sense of the kind of beings they were, and how they could best be dealt with.

Puck had heard that this was where many magical folk flocked to, either to find a new place to roost, or as a resting point before going further east. He'd come here out of curiosity. He did not fear the loss of power, or people taking up a religion based off a Jewish man dying after being crucified. Gods came and went, as did societies and cultures. He was not concerned about the number of followers, for he drew his power from other sources.

Constantinople was truly a fine city, and so far, he had been having fun. There were plenty of entertainments to be had in a diverse population, and it did not take long for him to realize that civilization had not really ended for Europe, as some said. It had merely shifted, flourishing where conditions were best for it. One day in the future, the West would become powerful again, but Puck would have no hand in the success, or demise of Byzantium, or other empires that had come before and would come after.

He was almost instantly aware of the scrutiny he was under as he moved about, listening to conversations, conversing with human and nonhuman alike. He did not reveal his true nature, preferring to be regarded as a human by everybody else.

It seemed though, that there was one person who detected his nature. And no wonder, as even though she was under guise like him, he could still sense the aura of her power. Did she see him as a potential threat? He certainly hoped not, because he could think of better things to do with her than fight…

Their eyes met, and he regarded her with a sly smile, raising his eyebrow. He noticed the paleness of her eyes, the green-blue barely visible, giving her a stare that could be unnerving when she had a mind to. Her long dark red hair was plaited with jewels, and deep teal silk hugged her curves. Her mantle was sewn with silver thread and inlaid with fine plum-colored velvet.

He bit into his date as he kept her gaze. A small smile graced her lips as her eyes remained fixed on him, as if she was assessing him. He ate the rest of the date and licked his finger.

With a slight lift of her chin, she turned around and slid through the grand room before stepping outside into the lavish garden. The palatial courtyard kept the riffraff out of the owner's gardens and orchards, and gave his guests an excellent place to get some fresh air. She stepped along the smooth stones, wineglass in her hand as her skirt fluttered out behind her. His step light, he practically pranced after her, curiosity increasing.

She slid over to a corner, where there sat a low wall that bordered one of the plots. It was suitable for sitting, and the space above their heads showed a nearly cloudless sky. The lamps cast a soothing ambiance on the moonless night.

"Lovely evening," he offered, taking a deep breath of night air, his eyes quickly adjusting to see the stars that hung over their heads.

"It is indeed. So, what brings you here?" she asked casually before taking a sip of wine. "I know you're not a creature native to this land."

Puck joined her, eyebrows rising at her comment. "Just travel. I go here, I go there. Before long, I'm sure I'll be off to somewhere else. Though I do so, this city has much that can captivate one's attention," making no attempt to disguise his compliment.

She smiled faintly. "What would a creature such as you be doing so far from home?" she asked. She said the word creature in a light, not insulting way, he could tell. "Do you truly come here simply on a lark? To see the sights, so to speak?" she asked.

"I do. Were it for more proactive reasons, everyone here would know," he offered quietly, grinning. "Home has its charms. Gets old though. There are so many other places to explore, new sights to see, new people to meet..." his grin widened, eyes sparkling. "So, if I'm to continue to make vague allusions to your beauty, I should perhaps know what to call you."

"You may call me Ekdisiki." He was certain that was not her real name, as he'd heard this name mentioned a couple of times by friends he'd made here. "And what should I call you? Where do you hail from?"

"Ekdisiki " He felt the name on his lips, his eyes going half-lidded. "I hail from the west. Old places in old lands. Around here they prefer to call me Nasradeen. But something tells me that's not the name you're looking for."

"Nasradeen is a nice name. But it is simply a guise for you, is it not?" She regarded him with open scrutiny, hinting at her real nature.

"Back home, they call me Puck." He offered his name with a flourish, his hair falling over his head as he bowed. Allowing his glamor to dissipate for a moment, revealing his silvery hair and pale skin. In less than a second, he was back in his disguise. "And _you_ are?" he asked, fixing his gaze on his companion.

"Puck. I have heard of you. Trickster, rake, free spirit, rogue." She smiled faintly as she crossed her arms. "Your reputation precedes you, Puck. Perhaps you have heard of me – in the language of your lands, I am known as Venganza." She was calm, exuding cool power, flashing blue for a moment, then red, before the aura disappeared.

 _Oh ho. Yes_. Venganza was not an entirely ancient name, but it had become part of the Romance languages for a reason. The power he had sensed from her was deep and rich, and on par with his own. Even though the two of them drew theirs from different sources, there were enough similarities for beings like them to sense one another. This was not a demon to be trifled with given the stories he'd heard of her… but damn, she was _hot_.

"And here I thought this gathering would be boring. Well, not boring. But not quite this intriguing."

"Oh, you find me intriguing?" the demoness asked, raising her eyebrow in a gesture that mirrored his own, "I will admit I am surprised to see such one as you so far from home, but then, you don't have mach to worry about, do you."

"I have a bad habit of worrying about even less than I should. Which, as you know, is saying something. It does keep me traveling though. I've ventured further, but this place has a certain appeal. Especially lately."

"Yes. One such as you... would know, wouldn't you?" she asked quietly, staring off thoughtfully for a moment. "So what is it you seek? Andrzej will not tolerate mischief-making around these parts," she warned.

"Entertainment. Distraction. Company," he shrugged idly. "I'll keep my more outlandish tendencies to a minimum as long as I'm not bored. And I'm not worried about Andrzej," he waved a hand dismissively. "Though while there's no need for warnings, I do appreciate your concern."

"My. You're quite a confident little fellow, aren't you?" she asked, her eyes glittering with a touch of interest. "So who are you posing as? Do you have business among humans?" she asked as she sipped her wine.

"I come and go as I please," he shrugged. "Figured I'd try it out. Work the charm among humans and being smiles to their faces. So far it suits me, wouldn't you say?"

"You do have your charms."

"We both do, if I do say so myself," he quipped, grinning. "And what business brings you out here, Ekdisiki?" again, he tried out her name, looking like he'd tasted something sweet, although the name meant revenge in Greek. "Anything particularly interesting." He scooted a bit closer, moving across the bricks with a swiftness that more than suggested he was flirting.

"Perhaps for the same reason as you, because it's an interesting place with interesting people... magical and mundane alike." she replied with a casual shrug. The humans can play their game of thrones, I find other venues much more interesting."

"And which venues would those be?" he asked curiously. "I've always found the throne rooms rather dull myself."

"Business makes for a far more interesting dance, though it can be said that power and business go hand in hand." It was true, and fortunes and even kingdoms could be made or broken through money. "Spice flows between my fingers, and a fair amount of... other things." He instantly understood her reference to magical folk and her procuring certain hard to find items for them. Of course, she could also be referring to blood. Vengeance demon and all, naturally.

"Oh, I see," his smile softened, just slightly. "I have for much of what I need. But if anything special comes to mind, now I know who to seek out. That is, if you'd welcome my company."

"Well, so far, I see no reason to object to it," she replied with a casual purr. She took a sip of her wine and leaned forward, chin resting on a hand.

"Then you haven't spent nearly enough time with me," he shot back, matching her gesture, his chin resting on his hand.

o0o

"Are you always like this?" Ekdisiki shot back. She'd heard that he was a child at heart despite his age. Though apparently he was mature enough in the sexual department, if the tales she'd heard of him was true.

"Sometimes I'm sleeping," he shrugged. "Are you implying I should be less charming? Am I too much for you?"

"I just find it interesting that someone so... old should act so young," she offered in her usual blunt and frank manner.

"Get to be my age, and you realize that making an effort to act old is rather pointless, in the grand scheme of things. Besides, we are ruled by our passions. I'm what happens when you refuse to deny them. And when you also possess considerable magical power, of course."

"Mmm. Of course. You're not afraid of death any more than I am, so you have no reason to not be free" His. magic tasted and smelled of ancient forests, streams fed by mountains and springs, open glens where fae danced and flowers grew, of beaches and the salty tang of the ocean air, and the rich earthiness of loam. These senses enveloped her, and she shivered just a bit as she regarded him. "Blessed are the few like you," she murmured

"We are that," he agreed, reaching out a hand slowly, giving her time to move away. His hand came to rest on her upper arm, partially covered by her mantle. She shivered just a bit at the touch.

"Your reputation precedes you, Goodfellow. in more ways than one." She raised her eyebrow as she studied him.

"Oh? What do they say of me so far from home? Good things, I hope," he grinned, his voice lowering slightly.

"That you are an unrepentant trickster, and that your skills in bed are hard to rival, but that you are ever like the wind, blowing from this place to that, never staying in one place for too long."

"Same ol', same ol'," he shrugged. "I slow down once in awhile. The rest of that though... completely true."

"Well. I must say that it is refreshing to come across someone who owns his reputation." She eyed him, wondering if his confidence was false, or if he really did have something worth bragging about between his legs. With his lithe frame, it would be easier to think he had a small endowment.

"Would there be any point to doing otherwise? Eventually, when so many tales about you say the same thing, denying them just makes you look like a clueless fool."

"Hmm. These are wise words, indeed, especially coming from someone with so youthful a face." She gently touched his jaw, running her finger along it. She was gratified to see his eyelids flutter in response as he leaned his head slightly into her touch.

"Youthful because I live so well," he teased, both of them knowing the real reason. "I must say though, I rarely run into someone who's beauty surpasses my own."

"It's nice to know you can be so humble," she half-teased as she looked over at him. "It's no wonder you have such a reputation. However, I can only assure you that I am not so easily won over." She shifted, starting to rise from her seat as if she was about to leave.

"I didn't think you would be," a hint of surprise, perhaps feigned, played across his eyes. "Personally, I enjoy a good challenge. And when you're as free as I am, you can really focus in on meeting them."

She smiled slowly as she turned back to him. "And just what would you do, Puck? How would you... rise to this challenge?" She subtly glanced at his groin, covered in his loose robes and giving no hint to how well he was endowed.

"That would be telling," he scoffed, shaking his head. "What's the fun in that?"

She smiled at that. "Not even a hint?" she asked with a quiet purr. "From one such as you... to one such as me?"

"...How subtle of a hint are we talking?" he inquired, leaning in a bit closer, eyes sparkling with a hint of blue. "Because I'm not known for my subtlety. Well, I am," he admitted. "But not when it comes to this."

"I'm not a human you can entice. I have no patience for games. If you're so interested in me, you'll he honest with me, Puck, for I am not one for surprises."

"Has not my interest been obvious?" he cocked his head curiously. "Do I need to press my lips to yours to get the point across? Because I gladly will."

She smirked at that and stroked her chin, the jewels on her fingers glistening. "You are indeed bold, imp. If pleasure is all you seek, then you should have no trouble here." She leaned in just a bit, studying him, peering beyond his glamor to see the silver-haired fae he really was.

Suddenly, a sharp voice cut through the air, and Ekdisiki looked up to see Andrzej, the owner of the grand villa in which they were standing. The ebony-haired man, tall and almost gaunt in his human disguise, stared down at the two. "I see that the gathering has attracted more than one kind of folk," the male demon said in a cool, silvery tone as he studied the pair whispering to one another on the bench.

Puck took his time looking up from the exchange, pointedly gazing into Ekdisiki's eyes. Eventually though, he glanced to his side. "Empires tend to do that, I've found. I've seen six or seven kinds of folk just today. Certainly makes things interesting."

She bit back a smile, and Andrzej glared at Puck. "Know this, little fae, that I do not brook to intruders in this place. The collapse of the West is no affair of my own, and I will not brook to ones who would attempt to usurp power," he warned, eyeing the young, handsome dark-haired man before his eyes moved to her. Unlike Ekdisiki, who was neutral and open towards fae, Andrzej openly disliked them, finding them irritating as well as lesser beings to demons.

"Don't worry Andrzej," Puck scoffed. "I'm not interested in any position of power here, I'm just traveling and taking in the sights. I'd simply like to continuing spending time with my companion here. We were only just getting to know each other."

The flippant attitude of the imp clearly grated on Andrzej, and he narrowed his eyes. "That is my companion you are talking to," he commented, taking a step closer. "You know not who you reckon with, fae."

"Your companion?" Puck glanced between the two of them. "She didn't say anything to me. Are you just claiming her now? Or merely forgettable for some reason?" Puck grinned, pulling himself off his seat, though he did not assume an aggressive stance. He merely loosely crossed his arms.

"Demons of our caliber have no use for little fey like you. I can be a gracious host, but I will not tolerate one who would step out of line," he said with a low growl, his eyes glowing with green-blue flame.

"I can't help but notice you neglect to answer my question. Ekdisiki here seemed pleased with my company. No mention of a companion until you came along. Is she already yours? Or are you staking a claim to her now? Or is such boisterousness simply how one displays their standing around here? I don't wish to get in the way of any important posturing."

"Very well, if you insist I answer the question, I suppose I must be a gracious host. Yes, I do claim her, and why should I not? My invitation to her supersedes yours." Andrzej was a bit of a misogynist, truth be told, but then it was a patriarchal society, so his behavior was not truly out of the norm, especially for a demon.

"Well then, if she is already claimed, there's little I can do. Though if you seek to be a gracious host, then boring those you claim to the point where they end up in the courtyard with another is what I'd fix before worrying about a penchant for not answering questions," he nodded thoughtfully. "Take it from someone who has attended many, many gatherings, being dull will ruin things for you more then nearly any other shortcoming."

Ekdisiki rose from her seat, gently touching Puck on the shoulder. "I do believe you've made your point." She glanced towards Andrzej. "The imp does have a point. Your guests are turning to alcohol for entertainment, when there should be better in the first place. I did recommend you bring in the musicians and dancers, but you insisted that would detract from the party." She said this in a sweet and polite tone, but Andrzej squared his jaw nonetheless.

"Well, humans are fickle creatures. One can not always know how to keep them entertained, hm?" Andrzej asked with a small smirk. "I'll be sure to hire acrobats next time, will that provide enough amusement for you, imp?" he asked in a tone that bordered on condescending.

"Hire whoever you wish," he shrugged, "though I do enjoy the occasional acrobat. Though I never said I was bored. I've enjoyed much of my time out here," he cast a quick glance at her, the corner of his mouth twitching with a hint of grin. "Maybe I'll stick around longer than I'd originally anticipated. Who knows? Perhaps I can help liven up the place."

At that, Andrzej gave out a rude snort. Ekdisiki raised her hand. "I have talked with him, and he offers no threat. He is not here for power or territory. He is but a free spirit, as fleeting as the wind. Let him enjoy his time here and have his pleasures of the city. After all, weren't you and I drawn here by the city's charms?" she asked. Andrzej nodded.

"i know this city ha a certain charm." He stared at Koshka hungrily. She stared back neutrally.

"She has the right idea," Puck gestured to her as he glanced at Andrzej. "No reason we can't all enjoy ourselves."

"I will be keeping my eye on you, fae," Andrzej whispered in a warning tone. He turned to her, holding out his arm in a beckoning gesture.

o0o

Puck had to stop himself from sticking out his tongue at Andrzej's retreating figure. Unfortunately, Ekdisiki followed him, but before she disappeared within the doorway, she looked over her shoulder back at him. A faint, knowing smile signaled to the far that he still held her interest.

o0o

Ekdisiki stretched out beside her sleeping lover before she walked out onto the balcony. She'd spent the night with him, and he'd proven to be a satisfactory lover. The relationship would not last, she saw that, but no use in denying herself fun while it lasted, hmm? She was clad in nothing but a simple dressing gown, the rick red and golden silk hugging her curves as she stood there in the morning sunshine, lifting her chin as she regarded the early morning light starting ton shine into the orchards and gardens.

"Lovely sunrise, isn't it?" a now-familiar voice called out from above. Puck sat on a high tree branch, his legs kicking slightly in the air, dressed in simpler, more comfortable clothing than he had been attired in the night before, and free of his glamor. She paused, her eyebrows furrowing for a moment before she recognized him. "Ahh, the imp. And what brings you here?" she asked with a lazy drawl. Andrzej was still sleeping, but even if he did arise, she had the feeling that Puck would be able to handle the other demon with ease. "And yes it is a lovely morning." She took a deep breath of the fresh air as she stepped down from the balcony, smelling the dew on the grass.

"Well, Happy Andrzej interrupted the fine time we were having in our last conversation. I was," he floated down to a lower branch, "hoping that we could perhaps pick up where we left off." Puck's eyes traveled over her dressing gown, and the form beneath. "And I thought you were lovely at the party."

"Yes. Andrzej tends to be... rather rigid" she acknowledged. "But he does keep control of the demons here. He's careful in his dealings with humans and makes sure that both can exist in peace. I have no interest in such power, and am content to let him do as he pleases. Politics bore me, I find far more pleasure in retribution." She flashed him an almost innocent smile. "And how are you enjoying the city so far?"

"I have no complaints. Cities aren't really my natural habitat, but so far, so good. The gardens and courtyards are quite nice."

"That is true. There is much to be said for eastern ideas. I don't see places like this in Britannia or Gaul." She walked amongst the fruit trees as he floated nearby. "Doing that... it's a rare ability." she commented with some admiration. Gravity was an immutable law... almost. To be able to fly or float around with such ease indicated a very high mastery of magic.

"Even the ground can't control me," he nodded, grinning and bobbing on the air. "I could just carry you off with me, you know," he teased, floating closer. "Bet Andrzej can't take you flying."

She gave him a lopsided grin. "Is that how you seduce girls, by carrying them off? Though I can see how such a strategy would work." Many demons, if they could defy gravity at all, could only hover. She had to admit she was just a tad jealous of Puck and the ease in which he moved through the air, almost like a fish in the water.

"If I've gotta carry them away from some jealous, grumbly brute," he shrugged, moving closer yet and lowering his voice. "It isn't an offer I've made before. You're the first woman I've wanted to just carry away. Be honored."

"I will admit that your offering is quite tempting, Goodfellow." She studied his impish features, the way his eyes sparkled as he regarded her. "However, I am already in a relationship, and I am not the sort of woman who plays with the affections of a man." She gave a sigh which almost sounded regretful. As long as Andrzej did not turn his attention to others, she would maintain the same respect.

The sigh was returned in kind. "I see. There is always the future though. I can be patient...at least for a little while." Puck grinned, offering a bow that left his hair hanging haphazardly. "You're missing out though," he added, nodding.

She gave a small chuckle at that. "So confident in your skills, are you?" Again, her eyes moved along her body. "What would you do with me, if you could fly away with me?" she asked in an almost conspiratorial whisper.

"Rescind that refusal and you'll find out," he whispered back, grin widening.

"So you want to keep things a mystery, hm?" She leaned over letting him see just a hint of her cleavage. "Sorry, but mystery will only take you so far, Goodfellow. Sometimes women like to hear the savory details. Mmm. Who knows, perhaps after my time with Andrzej is over…"

She studied the youthful-looking god before her. "I don't know why, but a gut feeling tells me that our paths will cross more than once in the future," she said pensively as she stroked her chin

"Oh, I'm certain they will. I'm immortal and you'll only be able to stand that wind-bag for so long. You'll be seeing me again," he nodded. "Count on it."

"I'm flattered that you'd take the time to remember me," she replied half-teasingly as he drifted around her, slicing through the air cleanly. "How do you do that?" she asked "You make it look so easy." His long hair trailed before him, and she was tempted to reach out and touch it.

"Lots of practice. I've run into my fair share of trees. And rocks. And more trees. Eventually though, you get the hang of it. After a few centuries or so."

She smiled at his frank humor. "Well, at least your efforts paid off." She admired his grace, and as he lightly brushed against her, she lifted her hand, catching a lock of his hair and letting it slide through her fingers. "You are a powerful temptation, indeed, Puck. No wonder others find you so charming."

"I am quite popular," he admitted, turning over in the air, doing tricks for her amusement and admiration. "You could always give in to that temptation. I promise you, we would have an amazing time."

She took a deep breath, looking into Puck's eyes, and seriously considering his offer. She might propose a threesome, but there was no way in hell Andrzej would consider sharing with another man, let alone one that he didn't get on well with. His male pride would never suffer the indignity of seeing a woman he'd taken to bed being claimed by another man, in front of him… or elsewhere, even. Oh well.

They stared at one another for a while before she heard movement from within the bedroom as Andrzej rolled around in bed with a soft groan, starting to wake up for the morning.

"Andrzej will not be happy to see you within his private quarters," she said casually.

"No. No he won't," Puck agreed, then sighed. "Which means I should be going. I'll just have to come back for you once hardass over there is out of the picture. Until then," again, he bowed, then began rising slowly into the morning air before he was noticed by the master of the house.

She gave a faint smile at that. "Until then, Puck. Safe travels." She lifted her hand a bit in a farewell wave.

"Safe? Sounds boring." Puck returned her gesture as he continued to rise, his form soon looking like a shadow in the morning light. Sure enough, by the time Andrzej rose from bed, the imp was already gone.

o0o

Thanks to everyone for their support and feedback. It is what keeps me going. This was a really fun chapter to write since I've been wanting to explore their past for a while.


	9. Chapter 8

**That Damn Imp**

 **VIII**

o0o

The store hadn't yet opened for the day, the morning light just beginning to peer in through the windows. Puck floated above the counter, looking over Koshka's wares, eying them curiously. Much of it was ordinary for the numismatic enthusiast. Off to the sides were coin-collecting supplies on the racks, and along the counters were various coins on display boards, while older coins other valuable items sat under the glass.

Of course, the only thing he really had eyes for was the proprietor of the store, and she would be here any moment...

o0o

Koshka stilled as she felt a tingle at the back of her neck, alerting her to Puck's magical presence, and took a deep breath. She had a date with Malcolm tonight. True to his word, Puck had left the blonde entirely alone, and while it certainly relieved her, it also honestly surprised her. The Puck was known for finding loopholes to work his mischief, but she had no complaints from her boyfriend, and she didn't sense any spells wrought upon him.

She'd decided to head down to the Jewish deli several blocks down for breakfast, and was sauntering up the sidewalk with coffee and a small paper bag. She unlocked the door and entered the store, giving Puck a dry 'good morning' as she set her breakfast and newspaper down on the counter, seemingly unruffled by his presence. She was determined to not let the imp ruin her good mood.

"Good morning to my most favorite demon in the world," he replied, grinning as he gave one of the display boards - bearing Presidential dollars among other American coins of similar value - a casual look-over before gazing around innocently. "You don't seem too surprised to find me here."

"You didn't even attempt to hide your aura," she reminded him with a smirk as she went to the windows to slide the bars back from them. The currency that Puck were admiring took on a sharper sparkle the morning sunlight hit their polished surfaces. "So what brings you around to this dusty old shop?" she asked as she sat down behind the counter.

"Oh just checking out what it has to offer," he teased, quirking his eyebrows. "How about you? I thought you'd be taking the day off. Spending it with.. what was his name again? Mike? Bob? Tom?"

"His name is None Of Your Business." she replied smartly. "And yes, I have a date tonight." She smirked faintly at him. "So what mischief have you been up to lately?"

"Really? I thought it was Malcolm," he teased, winking. "And you know... enjoying wine, women, song. Occasionally stalking you. Not in a creepy way though," he put up a hand protectively, grinning behind it.

She gave out a small snort. Perhaps it was because of her relationship with Malcolm, but she was actually surprisingly tolerant of Puck's company now - at least, at times. "Good. Because believe me, I would know if you did." She glared at him for a moment, before relaxing. "No matter how much you visit, you're not going to convince me to have a threesome with you. I'm sure Malcolm would put you to shame, anyway."

"Yeah," he rolled your eyes, "your pet human is going to outclass me. Please. And besides, who said I was looking for a threesome? Eventually, it's going to be just you and me."

"Pet human? You're cute." She took a sip of her coffee. "Besides, I could give Malcolm more years. Or even immortality. Perhaps I like him well enough to not let him get old and wrinkly."

"Yes, pet human. What would you call him? A toy?" At the mention of immortality, he scoffed, crossing his arms. "Why give it to him when you already have me? All this sexual tension... what do you need a mortal being for? It's not some weird human fetish, is it?"

"He satisfies me, and that's all I'm telling you," Koshka replied with a throaty purr. "Believe it or not, some humans do have their uses."

"I know they have their uses. But when it comes to the bedroom, you're going to get way, way more fun out of someone like me," he grinned. "Or, if you'd rather somewhere other than the bedroom, come on... take me into that back office and let me prove it." Puck ran a hand firmly down the front of his loose pants, his eyes going half-lidded, the mischievous grin never leaving his face.

"You have your uses, too. You bring an occasional smile to my face," the redhead replied, sitting back and enjoying the sight of Puck as she sipped her coffee. It wasn't cheating, if she wasn't going to do anything and hadn't asked Puck for this, was it? "You make very much of that particular toy, don't you?" she asked, her gaze resting on his groin. "But I'm in a committed relationship, so that's that." She took a bite of her bagel.

"I'm not asking you to break that commitment. I'm just asking for the opportunity to show you a really, really good time. You could go right back to ol' whats-his-name afterward," he shrugged, the dimple in his cheek illustrated by the shadow cast by the sunlight.

Her smile slowly froze as she rested her chin on her hand. "And there's that. See, the thing is, I like my sex to come with commitment. You're a flirty little imp. I shall not impede your... activities, but I will not be a notch on your bedpost."

"Can I be one on yours?" he suggested. "I suppose if you really want commitment, we can work something out. Maybe we fool around a couple times a week, then you go back home and play around with your toy. Sounds like a decent commitment to me."

She gave out a soft chuckle. "You're cute, I'll grant you that. It helps me tolerate your company, but you do have some growing up to do."

"I've been growing up for thousands of years," he huffed. "Though if you think I'm cute now, you should see me naked."

"I'm sure if you were naked, I would have a hard time looking away. Which is why I must ask, no, demand that you remain clothed," she scolded, and realized the barest fraction of a second too late what she had just let tumble from her lips. Her eyes widened slightly, and she saw a warm, happy twinkle in Puck's own.

"I knew it," he pointed at her, grinning. "You are into me. You might as well just run with it. It's going to happen eventually." He sighed, floating higher into the air. "I want you. And you want me. Why don't we just stop fighting it?"

"Who said anything about wanting you?" she shot back as she tore her gaze away from his cute pointy ears, and that handsome smile, and those twinkling blue eyes, to resolutely look down at the newspaper. She cared for Malcolm, and would not entertain thoughts of cheating on him. Yet she'd known Puck for over a thousand years. He'd had plenty of time to charm her, and there had been times when he'd come closer than she wanted to acknowledge. "I can admit that you are an aesthetically pleasing person, without actually wanting you." she pointed out before taking another bite of her bagel.

"Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that. But I know why you don't think you'd be able to tear your eyes away from me if I was naked..." Puck grabbed the waist of his pants, teasing as if he was going to lower them. Sliding his hands away, he folded them behind his head. "It'd be easier if you just admitted it, you know. You can want me without doing anything about it. Though I really wish you would just go with it. Would put an end to all this tension."

She didn't respond, instead swallowing her bite and taking a swig of coffee.

"Good bagel?"

"Made fresh every morning by a lovely Jewish grandmother," she said with an approving nod. "There have to be plenty of redheads out there, take your pick." She knew Puck wouldn't, of course, but she wasn't one to be teased and simply take it.

"I have picked. That's why I'm here. You're way hotter than the rest of them. And you already have a thing for me, so that's appealing," he quirked his eyebrows suggestively. "You know I'm not just here womanizing, right? If I wanted some cheap bimbo, they're all over the place. I'd much rather have a smart, classy, and sexy lady." He wiggled his eyebrows, and she could almost swear that she felt her heart skip a beat.

"Well, I am flattered. Sincerely so. Especially since I know I've been a bitch to you in the past. Is that what makes this so fun for you? The challenge?"

"It did... for a few centuries. Now it's the knowledge that I'm challenging you. See," he grinned, "I know you want me. But you're trying really, really, really hard not to act on it. And I'm patiently working toward that moment when you just say 'fuck it' and jump onto me." He floated closer, bobbing on the air, his hair floating slightly behind him. "You could just do it now, you know. We've got the place to ourselves."

"As I said, I'm in a committed relationship. I don't share your... flighty, flirty whimsy. I know this may be hard for you to believe, but Malcolm does very well despite the fact that he is not fae or demon. You should give humans more credit."

"He does very well? You sound like you're describing a kid that's getting an A in math. I'm way better than 'very well'. I'd rock your world."

"Malcolm rocks my world," she assured hm, raising an eyebrow

"I thought he 'does very well'," he teased. "I think you're just saying he rocks your world to try to win this argument. But you can't. You're never going to know how great I am in bed until you just give in and go a few rounds with me."

She gave out a small laugh. "I can't argue with that. I can't judge how good you are in bed since we haven't done that, but I think I'll stick with what I know. Give it up, imp. Malcolm's here to stay."

"Like I said," he his arms crossed over his chest again, "he doesn't have to go anywhere for us to play. But fine," he sighed, "stick with what you know. Even if what you don't know would be way, way better."

"I will say that you do have a healthy sense of self-confidence." Though she had the feeling that he was not lying or over-exaggerating, and would be a good lover. For all his quirks, his confidence about his abilities came across as natural. The advertisement of his attributes was not idle bragging. That certainly was part of her dilemma.

"There's a customer coming." she commented,

"Well then, I better go. Tell whats-his-name I say hi, " he teased before starting to turn from her. Then, for a moment, his expression turned serious. "He's a lucky man." He lingered long enough gaze at her over his shoulder before he vanished.

o0o

Though a six month anniversary generally wasn't a huge deal, especially for people of her age, she thought she would do something a bit nice and fun, so she'd decided to cook a meal at her apartment for both of them, and watch the last couple of episodes of Game of Thrones. And then of course, who knew what might follow? She had a very good idea, of course.

She moved around the kitchen, checking on her food, turning the heat off so the soup had time to bask in its own juices. She'd done potato soup, a generally simple and much-loved Russian recipe with her own modifications, and a couple of Eastern European side dishes to go with the meal, and devil's food cake for dessert. She had a bottle of wine already set out, and was practically shivering in anticipation of Malcolm's visit.

o0o

Puck certainly wouldn't keep her waiting long. Though he could be mindful of the schedules of others, as Malcolm he maintained a punctuality that he knew Koshka respected. She had said to come at seven, and here he was at 6:58. Slipping out of his shoes and leaving them on the rug as had become habit, he slid his hand along his neatly-cropped hair before knocking the door.

Six months had passed since his first day with Koshka as Malcolm. There was no denying that he had come to admire the feisty woman even more than he had already. He saw an unguarded side of her, one that went deeper than her usual confident, often aggressive mien. Of course, he could only talk and interact with her as a human, and likewise for Koshka, but Puck easily saw a future with her. At least, with his Malcolm guise. They did plenty of things together, finding many mutual pleasures amidst their diverse interests.

For all the differences between the imp and the demon, Puck was more than pleased to find more similarities between themselves than he would have thought. What was that saying, familiarity breeds contempt? It was the opposite for him, as he delightfully acknowledged.

And now, he'd just gotten a concrete hint of how deeply Koshka felt for him. Though she had said it lightly, the fact that she had considered magically extending Malcolm's life both intrigued and worried him. He was about to reach for the doorknob to let himself in when the door opened, and there his lover was, ready to welcome him into her home.

He was pulled into a tight embrace, and he hugged her back just as warmly, burying his face against the side of her neck to pepper it with kisses. She pulled away, and he relinquished the wine bottle he'd been holding in his other hand. It was a rare vintage, but then the Puck had access to various treasures. He smiled faintly as she glanced at the label, raising her eyebrow.

"You sure do know how to make a girl feel good," she said with a smile before she set it down on the dining room table next to another bottle. "Come make yourself comfortable, dinner's about ready. Which one of these should we start off with?" she asked, glancing at their choices of alcohol.

"Surprise me," he replied with a casual shrug. "Get me drunk and take advantage of me, is that what you're planning?" he teased.

"Something along these lines, sure," she replied in a playful casual tone as she pulled him into the living area, lightly shoving him down to the couch and straddling him, making out with him for several moments before climbing off him and returning to the kitchen, leaving him flustered until he heard meows before the cats wound against his legs.

He took a few moments to scratch the cats behind the ears before making his way to the kitchen. Sliding up behind her, he wrapped his arms around and gave her tits a playful squeeze.

"Smells delicious in here. If I pull you into the bedroom for an hour, or just toss you down on the table, is it going to burn?"

"Yes, it will burn," she replied with a mock serious tone. "You know you can't leave things on the stove unattended. Much as I enjoy your cock, as you well know." She wiggled back against him. "I've never seen the cats like anyone so much. Sometimes i let them downstairs to roam through the store for a change of pace and they always hide or hiss at the customers," she said with a small chuckle as she stirred the soup.

"Animals like me," he shrugged before pressing his lips to her temple. Allowing her to turn attention back to the meal, he sat down at the kitchen table and watched. "Let me know if there's any way I can help. Otherwise, I'm just going to sit here and stare at your ass while you work."

"Men," she said with a mock scoff as she rolled her eyes. The table was already set, and she used oven mitts to transfer the hot dishes to the table. There was potato soup, braided bread, and chicken with a tasty balsamic marinade, along with steamed vegetables.

"Looks great," he smiled softly, helping to arrange things on the table and dish out the food. "You really went all out. Glad we didn't let it burn."

"I know you like my cooking, and I do need to keep up your energy for sex." she grinned before she poured the wine for both of them, looking cute in a cashmere sweater and an elegant black skirt that showed off her calves.

"Good point, " he pointed at her with his fork, smirking. "This really is great," he gestured to the food. "You're a damn fine cook." Last time he was here, she'd selected items from Middle Eastern cuisine, again adding her twists to old Turkish and Iranian dishes.

"I don't subscribe to the whole notion of submissiveness for women, but I do enjoy cooking, so there's that," she said with a small smile. "How about some devil's food cake and Game of Thrones after dinner?"

"Do you even have to ask?" he kidded. "And you? Not believing in female submissiveness? I never would've guessed. Does that mean you're not gonna let me tie you up?"

"Well, if it leads to an orgasm, I might be willing to consider it," she shot back. The rest of the meal passed in companionable silence, Malcolm savoring the various flavors Koshka had worked into simple Slavic dishes.

After the meal, he placed his own dishes in the dishwasher, creating no undue labor for her. Leaning against the counter, he watched as she pulled out a container, lifting the lid to reveal chocolate in its glory. He grinned as she cut two thick slices and plated them up before sauntering over to the couch and placing the treats on the coffee-table.

The couple watched, relaxing as Jon Snow faced off against Ramsay Bolton to determine the kingship of the North.

Malcolm draped his arm across her shoulders, feeling her snuggle into his embrace as Daenerys and her dragons roasted the slavers' ships, making for a truly epic culmination to this season of Game of Thrones. They enjoyed their cake at a languorous pace, and he took the time to savor the sheer decadence of the rich, moist devil's food.

On the screen, Asha/Yara Greyjoy was flirting with Daenerys with that line about being open to anything, and Koshka chuckled. "With all the sex they've shown in this series, I wouldn't mind seeing these two queens together in bed,"

"Sounds to me like you wouldn't mind being in bed with them," he teased, nudging her playfully with his elbow.

"Well, I am... an experienced woman," she shot back flirtatiously

"How experienced?" he inquired, raising his eyebrows. As Malcolm, he'd been discreet about the subject of sex, not wishing to seem too nosy. She paused for a moment.

"More experienced than you might think. But always careful, mind you."

Of course, Puck mused dryly. She was playing it cool, like him. He definitely understood that, and would be careful about his comments on this intimate topic.

"Good to know," he nodded. "So... I take it you think you're more experienced than I am?" his tone suggested nothing more than idle curiosity.

"Probably," she said with a small smile.

 _Oh yes, kitten. After all, what is time to an immortal?_

"But I can say in all honesty you're the best lover I've ever had," she added.

"The feeling's mutual," he nodded. "You're incredible. More than worth the wait." he stated with warm honesty.

She raised an eyebrow. "Worth the wait? As I recall, you did not have to wait very long. Half a day, in fact, from the first time we laid eyes upon one another. Quite an impressive first date."

 _Oh, fuck_. He had to be really careful to not mix up his own history with the one he'd crafted for - and experienced - as Malcolm. He was quick to check himself. "I meant overall. The time I spent with other people." He waved his hand in a benign gesture. "Although really, if you had wanted to wait for that, I would have respected it. I must admit though, I'm glad you were so eager."

"I had a very good reason to be so eager. And you proved that. And then again. And again..." Her voice had dropped to a soft purr.

As the season finale wound to a close, with Daenerys and her army sailing across the Narrow Sea to Westeros, she trailed her fingers along his knee. "We've been lovers for a good while now... so I was thinking we didn't need condoms. I'm on the pill, no worries."

Mentally, Puck was doing cartwheels. He'd been patient, offering no complaint any time he needed to use the prophylactic And there were plenty of other things they did that made up for this relatively minor inconvenience.

 _Oh yes. About damn time_ , he mused. Already he was becoming hard. He took a deep breath, regarding her with an enthusiastic smile. He was certain she wasn't actually taking birth control pills, but he was hardly one to judge her for what was to one like her, a white lie. Especially given the magnitude of his own deception...

"I understood your concerns about being safe. You're an intelligent woman, and I can't judge you for taking precautions. That said, I'm glad you trust me. I won't disappoint you," Puck said, pushing that nagging concern to the back of his mind.

"I didn't think you would." She nibbled along his ear.

 **(cutscene)**

o0o

"That was one hell of a way to celebrate our six-month anniversary. It'll be pretty hard to top this," Koshka murmured as she lay splayed across the sheets in the afterglow of pleasure. It was early morning, after a night of rough sex interspersed with some cuddles, and a bit more television-viewing in the lull between couplings. Alternating between intensity and unhurriedness, it enabled the pair to make the most use of their human bodies without rousing any undue suspicion from the other person about their magical natures. The exhaustion that their human bodies felt after the vigorous use was genuine.

"We'll come up with something," he gasped, laying there spread out, trying to catch his breath.

She rested her chin on his shudders. "Well, I guess we wore one another down. You win, but so do I."

"Indeed. Which is the way it should be," he murmured, shifting closer to nuzzle up beside her. After all, that was how the Puck had always enjoyed his pleasure. The moans, the arches, the sighs, the cries... knowing that his bed-mate genuinely enjoyed his affections only made him want her all the more.

Idly, he pressed his lips against Koshka's temple.


	10. Chapter 9

**That Damn Imp**

 **IX**

o0o

Edinburgh, Scotland (newly part of the United Kingdom) 1710

Even though Edinburgh was emerging as a banking center, its sheer population density led it to being one of the most overcrowded cities in Europe, and naturally, there was an almost innumerable amount of people living in, or near poverty. A large part of the urban center was made of tenements, and it was not simply the poorest who lived in these closely-built structures. With the wide diversity in economic status, the gap between rich and poor intensified further with the unsanitary conditions generally to be found throughout much of the overpopulated city.

Like so many other densely-populated human centers, misery was inevitable. Suffering in many forms existed, from the cruelty of a human hand, to the vermin ad diseases that traveled easily between bodies, to sheer bad luck like dying in childbirth. Many crimes were committed out of desperation, and the people who were so desperate were often themselves the victims of crimes of greed or hate. Inevitably, vengeance would be called for.

Going about as a charity worker was a surprisingly effective disguise. Clad in plain gray traveling clothes with a hat and veil, she was easily identified by the cut and modesty of her garb, as well as the modest-sized cross she had pinned to her breast. Deference to the rank Koshka masqueraded to led her to a certain leeway not afforded to a woman of propriety or gentility. Had Catholicism been more tolerated in the United Kingdom, she would have masqueraded as a nun, but the strife between Catholicism and Protestantism had culminated in the exclusion of Catholics from the line of succession to the Crown, and the firm establishment of Protestantism as the state religion.

Regardless of the popular religion though, there was always the poor and downtrodden, as well as people of wealth – for money was just as much a lure to evil deeds as lack thereof – and people would always seek redress.

Her last vengeance spree was for a young woman whose father had sold her into servitude to cover some of his debt. It was not uncommon for daughters to be sent to maid or laundress services to support their family, but much more had been asked for – or more accurately, taken from – the girl. Her father, along with the men she'd been forced to service, fell before the meat knife that Venjanca had placed in her hand, and the next day there were stories of a demon haunting the neighborhood. The young woman was of course unharmed, as the demon had used her power to shield her from identification.

There were many others in the maid's position, but the ancient laws that even such beings like her had to follow prevented magical folk from wreaking too much havoc upon the world, and even curbed their benevolence. For her to grant vengeance, her name had to be invoked, but then, it was a good thing she'd gone by multiple names, and she was not without a name in the tongues of the Isles.

The demon who had been known as Ekdisiki, Venjanca, Koshka, and now A **icheamhail,** was the image of piety as she strolled down the street, ignoring the scent of garbage on this warm day, and the clouds of flies that hovered over the waste thrown from the windows of the buildings that lined the streets and alleys. Hands folded into her sleeves, her pace was brisk.

o0o

Though Puck normally kept to the peacefulness of the countryside, sometimes, going into town became necessary. Or, if nothing else, it provided for amusement one could rarely find amongst goat-herders and their ilk. Floating over the crowd unseen, he marveled at the displays below. He couldn't understand how the humans allowed their kin to descend into such abject poverty. Even amongst the Fair Folk, with all their trickery and backbiting, they still took care of their own.

He sensed a magical aura that was almost as familiar to him as his own, and a slow grin stretched across his lips. Here, in Edinburgh, that far west? It was a surprise… but not at all unpleasant one. It did not take him long to track her down, and looked over the people milling about along the street, narrowing his eyes as he looked for a familiar face. That is, if she'd chosen her usual human appearance.

He did a double-take when he figured out that the somberly-garbed woman with her face hidden under the brim of her hair making a brisk pace was the woman he was looking for. He trailed after her for several minutes, watching as she tossed a coin to a woman begging, a grubby-looking infant at her breast. She said several words to the woman before making a sign of benevolence. Whatever it was she said, the woman frowned, weeping as she clutched the coin in her fist. Likely from some firmly-worded advice, but then the vengeance demon wasn't known for honeying her words.

 _A vengeance demon doing charity?_ Puck mused. Well, it was nice to know that somewhere inside of the hot-tempered demon was a soft touch.

When she turned into a poorly-lit alleyway, he alighted beside her and let himself be visible. He'd taken on the glamour of a mortal man with sandy blonde hair, and clothing that was somewhat shabby, fitting in with the general fashion and class level of this area.

"Hey, you," he murmured happily. "Nice hat."

Without missing a beat, she kept walking, and he maintained her pace, keeping at her sides unless he had to duck around a pile of garbage, or a person out and about.

"Yes. It's all the rage in London and Dublin." she replied lightly as she regarded him. "And what's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?" she asked.

"Just people-watching. Though now I'm focused on one person in particular," he smirked, winking at her, "So you're up to date on the fashions in England and Ireland, but you decide to come out here, and you even called me _pretty_! Did you miss me?"

"I've already been to London and Dublin, and other places. Quite a time for the Isles. And of course, in all that turmoil, plenty of people here needing vengeance," she commented, sidestepping his question.

"Yeah, it looked like you were administering out some vengeance. No, wait," he cast a sidelong glance her way, "that was food, and money. All your time among people make you grow soft, Venjanca?" He was teasing, of course, and lightly nudged at her side with the tip of his elbow.

"Retribution is meted upon people who deserve it. Little children don't. It's not their fault they have parents who would rather spend money on alcohol instead of food, or keep breeding like rabbits even if they can't afford the children they already have,. It's common sense, really." She huffed and rolled her eyes, "And what have you been up to? Swapping human babies for fae babies?" she teased back.

 _She seems to be in a relatively good mood_ , Puck mused. If anything, she almost actually seemed happy to see him.

"Nah," he waved the comment off dismissively. "I'm more the baby-eating type. They're so soft and juicy. You know how it is."

"That's funny. Out of the two of us, I'm sure that others would agree I'm the one more likely to eat babies," she shot back.

"Yeah, probably," he quipped back, winking. Of course, both of them knew very well he that neither of them ever engaged in the horrendous pursuit of stealing and consuming babies.

"So you didn't come to a city jam-packed full of people just to cause mischief? Goodness knows plenty of people around here could use some cheering up." She shook her head. "Humans can create such putrid shitholes sometimes." She wrinkled her nose a bit as they passed by the open door of a tenement that looked as if it might collapse at any moment, hearing the crying of babies and the arguing of adults from within.

"Well I'll do that when I'm here too. Just a matter of finding some people that it'll actually cheer up. So many of these folks are so down that a bit of mischief can end up breaking them," He shrugged, kicking a stone down the street. "But when I find some folks that actually have it together and are still in need of some levity... well, you know what happens next."

"Oh, believe me, I know. Your reputation precedes you, Goodfellow." There was a legless man begging in the street. Koshka dropped a coin in his hat as she passed by, making the sign of the cross, which was ironic given her origin. "Still, this place is... interesting. It's amazing how little common sense some of these people have." A drunk man staggered out of one of the taverns, and from the looks of his clothing, appeared as if he spent all his wages on booze and nothing else.

"Some of it's lack of sense. Some of it's the times. People are desperate. When you're desperate, it's easy to just give up," Puck sighed, sounding more serious than usual. "It's still human weakness, but it's rooted in more than ignorance."

"Yes, of course. There's also greed and cruelty." She waved her arm. The upper classes and much of the clergy do their part in keeping the peasants poor and ignorant. But that's nothing new, is it?" Some things had never changed since the dawn of civilization. "Course, there's only so much vengeance I can wreak at a time. Cosmic laws and all that." Puck was just as bound by these laws as his demonic counterpart, so he could only do so much mischief, or so much good with his magic. It was a way of keeping things in balance.

"Right. Stupid balance," he grumbled, kicking the stone again. "You all tapped out on vengeance right now? I need to take a little break from mischief-making and could certainly use some company."

She smiled. "Company? Are you sure it's not just an excuse to try to get a peek up my robes?" she replied glibly.

"That hadn't been the idea. But if you're offering a look up your robes," he shifted a bit closer, "I'm not about to turn that down."

"Well, you caught me in a good mood this time around. So I'm willing t tolerate your company, at least for a bit. Is there anything you had in mind?"

"Well now my mind's stuck on the whole getting a peek beneath your robes thing..."

She gave him a light elbow to the side. "Well, I suppose I can accept blame for that. You know, I'm getting tired of the smells of this place. So what do you say we go somewhere a bit fresher and cleaner?"

"You suppose. It's totally your fault, being so beautiful and all," he teased, smiling softly. He offered her the crook of his arm. "Shall we?" She glanced at his arm for a moment before meeting his eyes and hooking her arm through his.

Winds blew, light flashed and in a mere moment they were standing in a field far from civilization, deep into the wild heaths of Scotland, A tree dotted the clearing here and there, and she heard the call of birds above the bubbling of the brook that ran past them.

"Will this do? Or did you have something else in mind?" Slowly, he slid his arm from hers, reluctant to break the contact.

o0o

"No, actually, this is a very welcome change." She took a deep breath. She wasn't a nature demon, but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy Puck's domain. With a sigh of relief, she took off her hat, welcoming the breeze on her neck. "Mmm. That's much better."

"That's right... take it off," he teased, grinning impishly as he nodded at her.

She smirked at him before taking off her boots and stockings, setting them aside and dipping her toes into the water. This was one of the streams that ended up feeding into the river that passed through Edinburgh. The crystal purity she saw here would in due time, become muddy and brown, carrying garbage along its currents. She picked up her skirt a little, enjoying the cool stream. It had been a warm day – not the best for wearing an extremely modest woolen robes or veil.

Puck was into the water quickly, his glamour gone. The trickster was shirtless, shoeless and in baggy, green-brown breeches. He dropped into the stream with just enough impact to splash her lightly. "I like it here. Far enough from people for some real peace and quiet."

She nodded. "Sometimes I wonder why I bother with this." She gestured to her outfit. "Humans are very interesting creatures. But so bloody annoying sometimes," she remarked. "Their arguing over whose church is better... I'm sure that if Martin Luther could see what was happening, he might have reconsidered the 95 theses," In response to the splashing, she kicked some water at him.

"Well if you're that unsure about it, you should take it off," he teased, giggling, then shrugged. "Can't blame me for trying." He batted his eyes at her.

"We've been doing this dance for what, a thousand years. I've come to know you well, Puck, and what to expect for you. So I can't say I'm the least bit surprised." she grinned.

He grinned back. "Well then, are you going to take it off, or what? Dancing's a lot more fun when you're naked anyway."

"Come now, Puck. You should know me well enough by now to know I'm not going to just do that and make it easy for you. This is the most I'm going to do." She lifted the hem of her skirt a bit, adjusting her robe as she redid her belt so that the hem wouldn't drag n the water, giving Puck a glimpse of ankles and calves. "That should be enough for you, little imp." She wouldn't admit it out loud but she enjoyed his teasing and flirtations, at least when she was in a receptive mood.

"No such thing as 'enough'," he snickered, eying her legs lustfully. "So, what you're saying is you're just playing hard to get?"

"Playing hard to get implies that eventually you'll get what you want. Which I have no intention of giving you," she replied, and though she sounded firm, there was the faint twinkle in her eye that she was unable to hide.

"Talking like that isn't gonna make me stop trying," he smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. His foot kicked out quickly, splashing her a bit more forcefully than before.

She responded with a kick of her own, almost falling in the water as she did so, since she didn't do this sort of thing often while Puck was comfortable in any natural element.

Puck giggled, kicking more water her way. He shifted to the left then right, playing at dodging splashes. Then, bounding forward, he tackled Koshka down into the water. It wasn't deep, and he was off her after just a moment, laughing on the shore.

"Imp!" she exclaimed, though she wasn't as angry she would have normally sounded. The cool water was a welcome change to the heat and humidity, "I'm going to kick your ass for that!" she said, shaking her fist at him as she got to her feet, the wool now heavy against her body. She added in several other colorful threats as she wrung her skirt.

"Oh, tell me how you _really_ feel," he teased, sitting up and dipping his feet back in the water. "You look nice all wet," he added, grinning and playfully quirking his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes. "Have you ever worn wet wool? That shite is heavy." She looked down at it for a moment before deciding to remove it. She saw Puck's eyes light up as she started, knowing he hoped to see her naked. His pants now clung to him since he'd gotten himself wet too, clinging to his legs and other parts, giving her more than a little hint of his endowment. Not for nothing did he carry a reputation as an endowed lover.

Under her habit, she had on an ordinary linen chemise, and since this was wet, it clung to her as well. Given her garb, the shift was longer than what one would expect, and of a finer quality, the thin fabric hugging her breasts and outlining her nipples. She regarded him with a small smirk, placing her hands on her hips.

"See," he gestured to her with a grin, "you look even better in less clothes. Don't know if you should get naked though. At that point, I just wouldn't be able to control myself." Puck ran a hand down the front of his pants slowly and firmly, letting her appreciate the show.

She raised an eyebrow. "Self-control isn't one of your strong points, we both know. So I guess I'll do you a favor and keep on my clothing," she teased. She was unable to stop herself from glancing at what Puck was doing for several long, lingering moments before managing to tear her gaze away. "I don't suppose if I wave this cross in front of you, it'll make you go away?" she teased as she unpinned the pewter ornament from her robe, both of them knowing very well that religious icons did absolutely nothing to him.

"No such luck. Sorry," he teased, the movement of his hand finally stopping. He had the hint of an erection beneath the pants, and bulged against his leg. "And come on. You don't really _want_ me to go away, do you?"

"Well, like I said, you caught me in a good mood. So we can have a nice sit-down and talk about Jesus and all. Open your heart and let him in." she said, placing her hands together in a praying position, cross just visible as it dangled from its bit.

"I'm sure we can come up with something better to talk about. Unless you're just trying to role-play with me. Have me corrupt the sweet, innocent earthbound angel of God and ravish her alongside the creek," he replied.

At that, she let out a warm, hearty laugh, which was a rare sound from the usually dour and bitchy demon. "And what would you be, Satan? With big horns and all? I've also heard he's also very endowed." she joked. She kicked some water at him again.

"I'd be me," he scoffed. "As if the trickster Puck has never seduced anyone. You've heard the stories." Puck licked his lips suggestively, letting the water splash against his chest.

"Believe me, trickery and mischief are not the only things you're known for, Goodfellow." she replied, wiggling her eyebrows. She waded through the water, approaching him, placing her hand on his chest... before she pushed him into the water, grinning down at him. "Turnabout is fair play, after all."

Puck giggled, kicking water her way before floating up out of the creek. Once again he dived at her, this time rolling the two of them across the tall grass along the creek. He landed looking down at her and grinned suggestively. "Gonna toss me back into the water?" he teased, tucking a few strands of Koshka's hair behind her ear.

"That's generally what one does with fish they don't want, eh?" Koshka snapped back as she looked up at him, twirling one of his long forelocks between her fingers. "Though I'll say you do smell much better than a fish." She had never admitted it to him, but she liked the way he smelled, of flower-streaked meadows, and deep, ancient forests, and the earthy smell of bogs. Much better than the smell most humans had, for sure.

"I'd hope so," he wrinkled his nose. Leaning down, he inhaled, his eyes half-lidded. "You smell pretty nice too," he murmured, his lips brushing against her neck with each syllable. She let him enjoy her scent for a moment, before lightly pushing him away, causing him to tumble across the grass. "Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you."

"It's because you're into me," he sat up in the grass, crossing his legs. "You hide it sometimes, but I can tell. I'm perceptive like that."

"Oh., now you're an expert in women, huh? I suppose having all these lovers makes you think you know so much about the female species, huh?" She sat up, crossing her arms, smirking faintly. "Come now, Puck. After a thousand years, I'm still saying no. I'm pretty sure that means I don't like you."

"If you didn't like me, you wouldn't be here," he grinned. "And there are no experts on women. I'm just good at telling when one has a crush on me. How do you think I end up with so many lovers. I have a good eye for people that are interested. Though if you prefer something more casual," he added, "we could just have some fun and then be on our ways."

"Sorry, Goodfellow. But I am set against being another notch on someone's bedpost. So my answer remains ever the same, but I'll still talk to you about Jesus. You could become a monk or pastor. I'm sure you'd look sharp in somber colors."

"I prefer clothes that are less confining," he shrugged. "And not endlessly prattling on about invisible men in the sky."

"Human notions certainly are odd, aren't they? So many humans refuse to see fae or demons, but they're willing to go for some invisible guy in the sky who let his son be crucified. But I'm sure you'd still look very dignified in black." she poked his side lightly.

Puck squirmed. "I look better out of black. But if I don't get a show, then no show for you either," he teased, sticking out his tongue.

"So... if I flash you my tits, you'll show me your cock?' she asked, the faintest of smirks on her lips as she regarded him. He was indeed a handsome sight, relaxing there in the grass, the dampness of his pants making no secret of his semi-hard cock. She did feel a tingle of warmth between her legs, and squirmed around a bit., Not for the first time, she wondered what it would be like to have him in her bed, but as she'd commented before, she didn't want to be simply another conquest.

"Well I'd like more than that," he shifted, sliding a hand down to the waist of his pants suggestively. "But it's certainly a good start."

"Allrightythen, so I know what you would do if I let you see my tits. What would you do if I let you see... other parts?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "What do I get in return for that?"

"Just seeing them?" he inquired, smirking. "Not sure what all I can give you for just getting to see. What do you want? A show?"

"And you would put on a good show, imp. I don't doubt that the sight of my feminine parts would be very helpful towards that goal," she teased. She knew that if Puck saw her parts, he would never forget. Hell, she doubted that he would be sated with the sight of them. He would want to touch them... and more.

"So when you talk about what I _would_ do, rather than what I _will_ do, is that your way of turning me down again?"

She blinked before grinning. "You're pretty sharp when you out your mind to it, Puck. At least, when you use the head on your shoulders instead of the one between your legs."

"You say that, but with the way your eyes travel, I think you're more interested in..." he looked down between his legs and raised his eyebrows, "that one."

"Why says I can't appreciate both?" Koshka replied. "After all, with someone with my looks, cock is pretty easy for me to get. I require something more... substantial." She stretched out in the grass, the sun helping to dry the linen that had been clinging to her body

"Like really big cock? Because I think I can help there."

She chuckled softly at hat, her eyes moving down to his groin for a moment before looking back into his eyes. "Perhaps I keep saying no because I find our banter to delightful," she replied, lightly tapping his nose.

"There can still be banter after sex," he suggested, shifting his legs to allow her a better look. "I like it too. Certainly not about to give up the banter."

She smiled, and then paused. "I am sure that post-sex banter would be just as delightful. But the thing is, as I said before, I'm not interested in being yet another lay of yours. You never remain with any one lover too long. You go from place to place like the wind, and skilled as you may be, I do require a bit more... constancy." she replied in a more serious tone

"You say that, but I think you just know that if you have me, you're gonna fall for me. And you want to be able to focus on wandering Europe, meting out vengeance. Can't do that when you're spending all of your time jumping on Puck."

She laughed softly at that. "Are you sure it's not the chase that's keeping you interested in me? I know you've never chased after anyone for so long. Sometimes I wonder if you like the challenge, and once that is gone, you'll get bored, like you often do."

She shifted around, the line around her breasts still a bit damp, making the outline of her nipples visible, and this did not escape his scrutiny, his gaze flicking to her chest.

"I can chase lots of people, so it's certainly not that. It's the person. And you'll still be around even after the chase. Besides," he stretched, "I know you. You won't stop challenging me just because we have ourselves some fun."

She reached out to very lightly run a fingernail along his stomach, circling around his navel. "So you can absolutely guarantee that if I say yes, you won't simply wander off after that? Because you do have a reputation for breaking hearts, imp."

"Well..." he shifted closer, leaning into her hand, "sometimes I've gotta wander. Free spirit and all that. Nature is an entity of chaos. But as you've already seen, I do come back."

She did not reply for several moments, allowing her finger to continue to explore his stomach. She noticed him shiver a bit when her finger dipped lower, above the waistband of his pants. Puck was a powerful temptation, indeed. It wasn't that she expected marriage from him or anything like that. But she wanted her relationships to be more lasting, to have _some_ meaning to her. It wasn't that she sought love, but she held standards for those who would share intimacy with her.

Her finger trailed up his chest and jaw, trailing along his pointed chin. "You may be a free spirit, but I'm not quite as fickle as you."

"I know," he tilted his head, kissing and nipping at her fingers. "Doesn't mean we can't have ourselves a bit of fun though. I'm not too fickle for doing that. Then doing it again. Again. And again."

She smiled, for once, allowing him to bite and nibble at her fingers. She was actually enjoying his attentions, and lightly ran her fingers along his lips. She glanced at his groin, where it seemed like her attentions had roused him a bit more. "I don't doubt that, little imp. I will say that you are very powerful temptation for this worker of God. Fortunately, I have Jesus on my side to help me resist temptation." Se grinned as she withdrew her hand away from him, almost regretfully. She did enjoy teasing him, but she was getting aroused by the sight of his cock hardening in his pants, and was smart enough to back away before there was no turning back. She picked up the ornament, which she'd casually dropped onto the grass, feeling the weight of the cross in her palm.

"Tease," he murmured, watching her hand withdraw. "You'll come around eventually though. I've got all the time in the world."

"I think you enjoy my teasing. I'm interesting to you because I don't get all starry-eyed like the girls who hop in your bed." She rose to her feet, brushing the grass off her clothing as she looked down at him, for a moment having a mental image of climbing on top of him and riding him right then and there in the grass after pulling down his pants just enough to free his cock. Her pussy ached at the thought, and she bit back a groan. Bloody damn imp, being all... cute and clever and silly and sexy. He was quite the package, even if he wasn't always as mature as she liked her men to be.

She picked up her damp robes. "Although I just might get rid of this, Modesty's nice and all but not when it demands you wear a long wool dress on a hot summer day," she said with an exaggerated sigh and shake of her head.

"Do it. I'm all for you wearing less clothes all the time," he grinned. "And I do enjoy your teasing. But I would prefer a bit more follow-through," he exhaled softly. "Alright... a _lot_ more follow-through."

She paused and turned back to him. Usually, she was a lot more bitchy, but today had been a genuinely pleasant time, and she couldn't begrudge Puck his teasing when she teased him right back.

"Well, you do have certain qualities that make you appealing. Perhaps, if you worked a bit more on maturity, you just might get lucky."

"I can get lucky anytime," he teased. "Remember? Starry-eyed girls hopping into my bed? I've gotta be more mature to get you though? Hmmm..." he put his finger to his lips, tapping thoughtfully. "That's not gonna be easy..."

She grinned at that. Imagine, Puck admitting something wouldn't be easy for him! "Well, you know the saying. 'Nothing worth getting is easily gotten.' Or something along these lines," she said, stroking her chin. She picked up her veil and shoes and stockings, bundling them to her chest. "I will say though, that I did have a very pleasant time with you today. A nice wade in the stream and a tumble in the grass certainly picked up my mood after the city." It was obvious from the warmth in her tone that she meant it.

"I assure you, you'd enjoy an _actual_ tumble in the grass a great deal more," he teased, kipping to his feet. "But it seems you're going to be on your way. I had a nice time too. We should do this more often. See how long it takes you to get sick of me."

She laughed at that. "Well, you've always had a knack for finding me, no matter where I am. Come by and say hello later." She gave him a friendly wave before waving her hand, a red aura rippling around her before she disappeared.

Puck stood at the edge of the stream, watching the water for a while before fading from sight.

o0o

Puck squirmed around on the bed, his hands and feet secured to the bedposts with silk ties. As Malcolm, he cheerfully submitted to Koshka's sexual dominance. Once in a while he might even challenge her a bit, just so she would treat him with a firm hand. Blindfolds, hot wax, feathers, spankings… the vengeance demon wasn't a sadist in the bedroom, but Puck had come to learn that she enjoyed exerting control in various ways that led to their mutual pleasure.

He wasn't about to object to these games… at least not too strenuously, when she teased him for so long, holding off his release or forbidding him to touch himself for a few days while doing things that she knew provoked his sexual urges.

He stared up into darkness as he felt fingernails slowly caress his inner thigh, skirting around his sac and the base of his throbbing manhood. As Puck, he could easily zap away the blindfold and bindings, and have his way with his feisty lover, and show her a thing or two about what she really was dealing with.

However, he'd learned to refine a certain sense of patience as Malcolm, and enjoy various aspects of her ministrations. Without sight, he focused on his other senses, detecting a note of her perfume. It as a combination of orange flowers and sweet musk. A tremble passed through his groin as her fingers drew closer, oh so close, before pulling back.

He let out a frustrated moan, twisting his hips around and causing his manhood to bob side to side.

"Mistress…" he breathed, tilting his head in what he was certain was the direction of her face.

 **(cutscene)**

o0o

He stretched out in bed several hours later, free from any bindings. Koshka lay next to him, idly stroking his arm as they basked in the afterglow of their shared pleasure.

"So I was thinking in the morning I'll have breakfast delivered, hm?" They were both familiar with his shortcomings as a cook, but Koshka accepted as a fair bargain Malcolm's use of restaurants to provide his meals. It gave them the chance to try out various items, and let Koshka enjoy some nights to herself without the worry of preparation or the mess of dishes.

"Sounds good to me," she said with an easy shrug. He grinned at that. It was amazing what humans could do with modern technology. In some ways, it was easier than magic.

They cuddled together in companionable silence for a good while, each lost in their own thoughts. He ran his fingers through her hair, placing light kisses along her neck.

"Koshka, I know this is not the first time I've told you about how much our time together means to me." He looked into her eyes, running a finger along her jaw. "I've told you before that I am yours."

Puck had thought long and hard about what he planned to say. He'd never said it to anyone else, not had he ever seriously considered it. He was a flirt, a rogue, a charmer, but he did not fool his lovers into believing that he cared for them any more than he actually did. There had been a few broken hearts left in his wake, but not through his own caprices.

The guise of Malcolm might be a deception, but Puck knew his feelings for her were true. As true as anything could have ever been. For centuries he had yearned after her, longing to get to know her better, curious about what lay behind the facade of the ancient goddess. Regardless of how many times she had turned him down, he felt inevitably drawn back to her. And now that he had had his chance to know her better, he only wanted more. And it wasn't simply learning things about her, he'd also explored facets of himself that he hadn't been aware existed.

As a primeval nature god given power and form through millennia, the lack of mortal limitations had affected Puck's spiritual growth. He never had to worry about going hungry, or cold, or getting sick and dying. He was well aware of death, of course; it was a part of nature. But the fae was in many ways like Nature itself – wild, unrestrained, following laws more ancient than the ones man wrote.

He'd taken human guises in the past, of course, but none that required him to adhere so much to human ways as Malcolm did. Unable to do magic around or near Koshka without hinting at his true self, he'd learned all the more quickly for being so immersed in the ways of humans. Sure, there were challenges, but there came with it a better understanding of these ephemeral beings.

"I love you." There. He had said it. He'd been nervous about it, but now seemed as good a time as any, when they were relaxed and enjoying one another's company.

"Oh. Malcolm." Her expression, already placid, softened in such a way that Puck had no doubt of the effect of his words on her. It warmed his heart to see her respond so openly to his declaration.

"I love you," he repeated tenderly before pressing his lips to her forehead.

o0o

It'd been so long since someone had told her that they loved her. She'd enjoyed some of her previous relationships very much, but nobody had ever made her feel the way Malcolm did.

How would he feel if he knew of her true nature? Would it corrupt the relationship? In a relationship with a mortal, a demon risked their human partner trying to take advantage of their power. An cautionary tale among magical folk concerned a _tennyo_ and a mortal man, in ancient Japan. Venjanca was an old and powerful creature, and vendetta was as old as any other human social institution.

She'd gained self-awareness when Cain killed Abel, and she alone knew the truth behind the story of the two brothers. Through the ages, as humans evolved and their societies became more complex, she answered to the ancient call of retribution. How would Malcolm feel if he knew how much bloodshed she had been responsible for, however justified the cause? Much as he'd demonstrated his affection and respect, a demon or fae revealing their true self could cause an enormous strain on a relationship.

She reached out to run her hand along his hair, enjoying the feel of short, thick locks under her fingers.

"I've never felt about anybody else the way I feel about you," Koshka admitted. He regarded her with a gentle smile.

"I mirror that sentiment, kitten. Otherwise I wouldn't have told you I loved you." He pulled close to kiss her cheek. "You're the only one I've ever even considered saying it to." He stared into her eyes, and although she'd looked into them often enough, there was something slightly different this time. As if something glimmered within them, unguarded and true. His words were uttered calmly, with a faint hint of a purr. She stared into his eyes, hoping to catch that glimmer again, but she didn't notice anything unusual. Perhaps it was simply the tenderness of the moment that caused her to think she'd seen something. Oh well.

"You certainly know how to make a girl feel good," she replied casually before he pulled her in for a fierce hug. He peppered her face with kisses before looking down at her fondly.

"Is something the matter?" he asked. She blinked in confusion, and he regarded her with a gentle smile.

"What? No, what makes you say that?" she asked. As he looked into her eyes, she was certain she saw that glimmer again.

"It's just…" he paused as he rubbed her arm. "You seemed anxious about something. I wondered why you might be worried at a time like this and then..." He looked down almost bashfully. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"No, no." She nuzzled him and kissed his temple. "You didn't say anything wrong. It just melted my heart." She ran her thumb along his cheek. "And I'm generally not prone to such moments."

"You're a bad-ass, Koshka. And you'll always be, regardless of how much of a softy I know you cam be," he responded lightly. Squeezing her hand, he nuzzled her. "I can tell you this, there is absolutely no need to worry how I will think of you. You're the most amazing woman I've ever known and I've never told anyone else, or even thought, about telling them I loved them. I generally consider myself a good judge of character, and I know I want to share my life with you. I hope you feel the same way."

"… I do," she admitted quietly. "Ever since I first laid eyes upon you, there's been the most incredible spark between us."

"Believe me, you're not the only one who felt it." He kissed her brow. "I am all yours, kitten. Then, now, and forever."


	11. Chapter 10

**That Damn Imp**

 **X**

o0o

Puck stared down at the gift he had gotten for her. The flawless ruby glittered in the sunlight, complemented by the smaller diamonds that sat at either side of it in an elegant design. By human standards, it was a very impressive gift for a man to give a woman. Even by fae standards, it was still quite a nice piece of bling, and he turned it this way and that, seeing the flashes of color as the flawless diamonds refracted the sun's rays.

It was a magnificent gift, for the most magnificent woman he'd ever known. He slid the gold band onto his pinky and lifted his finger, wiggling it as he imagined how it would look on Koshka's ring finger. It was not hard to visualize how he would present it to her. He would dress himself in a fine black suit, with a red silk tie, and put on a dab of the cologne he knew she liked. He would sink to one knee in front of her, and lift the little velvet box in one hand before opening it and letting her see the ring as he asked her the question…

But that was Malcolm. If he proposed marriage to her, their union would be based off a sham. Koshka certainly was happy with Malcolm, and Puck was confident that he could keep up the charade for years. He'd grown into the role of Malcolm… or had it grown onto him? Being so faithful to the guise he had created offered Puck certain challenges that he'd responded to and learned from. In that respect, was Malcolm such a lie? Was his human guise simply that, a guise, or had Malcolm become a part of himself, a part that he'd seen no real reason to nurture or develop in the past? Such a quandary…

Puck sighed as he slipped the ring off his finger and put it back in its case.

o0o

Koshka walked up the stairs and quickly knocked, calling out before she let herself into the living room of Pam, who had called upon her for vengeance after the murder of her grandson, Jason. She set the brown paper bag on the scuffed but clean dining table. Pam rose from her seat, going to the kitchen to fetch some silverware and dishes for their meal.

The demon was silent as she watched the old woman shuffle across the floor. Mrs. Voorhees had had a difficult life. Born just before the Great Depression, she'd married young to a man who had become alcoholic and abusive. Of her children, little remained. One was in jail for life, another had caused his own death in a drunk driving accident, and the third died from an overdose. The fourth was missing.

Her daughter had been known for being… popular with the men, and ended up pregnant one day. She was quick to abandon her son with her mother, so Pam had been left to raise Jason. Despite his mild mental disability, Jason had turned out better than his mother or aunts and uncles. He gave his grandmother solace, working part-time in the grocery store and reading his comics and building model planes in his room. He was an affable fellow around the neighborhood – there was not one reason to dislike him.

After all she'd suffered in her life, the murder of her grandson unleashed something in her. And Koshka had helped her to channel that into vengeance fitting of those who would kill a hapless victim for pleasure.

The woman whose actions had rocked the community was dying of cancer. She'd been undergoing chemotherapy, but her advanced age and the toll of Jason's death weighed heavily upon her. She was ready to move on, and had stopped doing chemo, living out the remainder of her days in quiet. On the walls were several pictures of Jason and his mother and other family members in various stages of their lives.

Koshka pulled several items out of the bag, including a large container of matzo ball soup, made to order with smaller balls to make it easier for Pam to eat. She'd picked up several things from the Jewish deli, and knowing who it was for, they had made the order special.

The old woman had the table set in several minutes, meticulously placing the dishes while Koshka waited patiently. Pam insisted on receiving guests the proper way, eating at the dining table instead of from a TV tray.

"Have have tings been going with Malcolm?" Pam asked after she delicately spooned some matzo broth into her mouth, savoring the heat.

"Tonight is our one-year anniversary."

"How lovely." The old woman smiled wistfully. Koshka looked around again, taking in the images of Pam's family. There was just one of her husband, taken on their wedding day. He was not a bad-looking guy, and he and Pam did make for a lovely couple, but Koshka knew very well how malice could lurk under a friendly smile. From what she knew, he had been an alcoholic who liked to come home and slap around his wife and children. Fine example he set for his two sons, who had both grown up to be men of no account. His daughters had fared no better. After nearly two decades of marriage, he'd passed from a heart attack, leaving her with a brood of children that ranged from a school-age child to a couple of surly teenagers. She'd done her best. But bad luck seemed to hound her.

Her youngest daughter had run off, abandoning Pam with a mentally disabled grandson. Fortunately, Jason had turned out decently. He was obedient to his grandmother, helpful around the house, friendly as so many simple-minded people were, and was known around the local grocery store as a hard and honest worker.

He'd been the light of his grandmother's life, showing that despite the trials she'd endured, some good had come of them. Then one night, he'd been harassed by members of a gang, resulting in his careless murder.

Now Pam was alone, and dying. She had decided to be done with chemotherapy, and let her time run out on its own. Her thirst for vengeance satisfied, she was ready to move on. It was a little sad for Koshka to see, but she understood.

They chatted a bit as Koshka made some tea, before the old woman went to her bedroom and came back with a velvet ring box. The demon glanced up at her as Pam sat back down with a gentle smile. "I know you sold this to Jason. He wanted to buy me something special, so he went to you."

Koshka nodded slowly. Jason had come to the nearest person he knew who sold jewelry, and all the better for it. She offered him a sapphire ring – Jason said that his grandmother had always loved them – at a prince considerably cheaper than what she normally would have marked it for. Then she'd offered him a simple plan where he would have the ring paid off with six easy installments. He'd paid off the fourth month before his murder, and Koshka had made no attempts to claim the remainder of the balance from his grieving grandmother.

"He told me what you liked, and I offered him a fair deal."

"Take it back, please. I know he did not finish paying it off, and I would like to return it to you as a token of appreciation for what you have done for me."

"Your family?" she asked. Pam slowly shook her head.

"They've done nothing to earn it. If they're still around, they'd just pawn the ring for more drugs or something. I'm leaving my savings to the local animal shelter."

Koshka looked down at the ring. "That ring could make someone else happy. Please make it happen," she heard Pam ask.

"As long as you don't tell anyone, of course. I have a reputation to maintain." If it got out that the big, bad vengeance demon had a bit of a soft spot for humans, who knew what that would do to her reputation. She might need to make sure her next spree was especially bloody, if circumstances called for it.

Pam had only an inkling of that. Her memories of the night she called out for vengeance were a bit hazy, but enough to console her and keep her content for the remainder of her days.

"Of course, dear." Pam had chuckled at the story of Koshka chasing away a man who had tried to sell her a stolen TV. "I hate to say it, but I'm getting tired and would like to rest. Besides, I know you need to get ready for your big night, hmm?" she asked.

"I do. Thanks for the reminder." She winked at Pam before she collected her jacket and left.

o0o

Malcolm stared at his reflection in the mirror, taking a deep breath before he adjusted his glasses. Exactly one year had passed since Koshka had become acquainted with this human identity of the Puck. There was the temptation to never come clean, and simply go on living as Malcolm, and enjoying the love and affection of the demoness. Many would say, _you got a good thing going, why ruin it?_

Well, it was because they both deserved better. It was obvious Koshka cared for him deeply, and even though his deception had no malice behind it, he knew he was still violating her trust. It was time to come clean, even though all Puck wanted to do was just continue to enjoy his time with her and not take the chance that the incredible relationship he'd maintained with her for a year might come to an irrevocable end.

They'd just shared Chinese takeout and watched a movie while sharing ice-cream. She was sitting on his couch right now, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. He glanced at himself one more time, studying the body he'd so carefully crafted. Again, there was that temptation to keep things as they were.

Steeling himself, he returned to her side, where she curled up against him, wrapping her arm around his middle. He smiled wistfully and draped his own arm across her shoulders, hugging her tightly as he pressed his lips to her brow.

"What now? Something funny? Scary? Romantic?" He pulled up Netflix as he fiddled around with the buttons of the remote. "I have some wine too, if you're in the mood for it."

"How about we make our own personal entertainment?" Koshka asked, her eyes twinkling playfully as she looked up at him. A slow grin spread across his features as he set aside the remote and pulled her into his lap, inhaling the scent of her perfume.

"What did you have in mind, kitten?" he teased, leaning back against the comfortable couch, his arms firmly hooked around her. In response, she wiggled around in his lap, grinding against his groin. "You're an intelligent man, Malcolm. I'm sure you can figure it out."

"Oh I'm sure I can," he grinned, wiggling back against her before lifting his arms to spread them across the back of the couch. "But sometimes I like hearing you say it."

"Hmm, there is that. I do like hearing you say how incredible and desirable you find me," Koshka said with a grin. "Just as I know you like it when I stroke your ego... among other parts." She lightly tapped his nose.

"And what would you like me to do now?" he replied, playfully snapping at her finger with his teeth.

 **(cutscene)**

o0o

Despite the fact that it was past midnight, Koshka was trekking with her lover through the woods. It'd been a lark, and one that at the moment had delighted her. A nice dinner, a few rounds of sex, and then instead of going to sleep, a moonlit hike. Why the hell not? Though Malcolm liked to be meticulous in his planning, when he did have a lark, it generally worked to their benefit.

They came to a stop at a bluff that overlooked the tops of trees at the other side of the stream that tumbled between the rocks. He pulled her into a side-hug, and she rested her head against his shoulder as they stared out into the silence.

"Is something the matter?" she whispered. He relaxed his grip and took a step back to look down at her, regarding her with a gentle, almost sad smile. He lifted his chin, the moonlight shining across his skin and giving his eyes an almost ethereal glow. She let out a slow breath, the warm mist dissipating into the cool air. Her gaze moved down and then back up his form, studying the man she'd come to love.

A year. It was almost hard to believe that a whole year had passed since fate brought Malcolm into her life. And what a year it'd been! Someone like Koshka was normally reluctant to use the term soul mate, but she was certain Malcolm was the one meant for her.

Of course, would he still feel that way if he knew her true nature? A human's reaction to finding out that they were the love of a magical being was varied. Some felt blessed. For others, jealousy or insecurity might eventually taint the relationship. There were humans who, with access to magic or power, would give in to their darker urges, asking favors of their lovers for their own selfish means. She didn't think Malcolm would be like that, but he was still a very rational man. How would his logical, ordered mind deal with the fact that there were indeed mystical forces in this world and that many legends had at lest some grain of truth to them?

Course, some magical beings never revealed their secret, and let their lover grow old and pass on when their time came. Could she just sit back and pretend to grow old with him, knowing that one day she would never see him again?

Damnit. This was why so many magical beings avoided getting in serious relationships with humans. Developing a significant attachment to something that was ephemeral compared to themselves led to inevitable sorrow. Humans knew it well enough with one another, regardless of what kind of relationship they had.

"You know I really enjoy being with you," Koshka commented, figuring she could hint at her true nature, and see how he responded before telling him anything definite.

"I do. And I also hope that you know I share these feelings." He caressed her cheek.

"What is it you like so much about me?" he asked in a faintly teasing tone. "I like hearing what you enjoy."

"Eh, do I have to pick one thing? I like all of you." _Would you like all of_ _ **me**_ _?_ she silently added.

He maintained his smile, but his gaze changed. He seemed focused on her, yet there was a far-off expression as if he was pondering something momentous. Her hand slid to his chest, taking reassurance in the strong heartbeat under her palm.

"So... if something was different about me... my looks, fiances, reputation... you would still want to be with me?" He sounded slightly nervous, almost perfectly hiding it under the calm exterior he generally exuded.

She raised an eyebrow but nodded. As their relationship had become serious, she'd done a background check on him. No criminal record, and no taint of dark magic. She'd met a few of his friends or acquaintances, and he'd dome the same for her, charming the people she introduced him to with his manners and calm friendliness.

"Hey, if you got your good looks through plastic surgery or something like that, I'm not going to care." she quipped, hoping to put him at ease. She also felt a bit oddly relieved, that he had his own confession to share.

"No. These good looks are all mine." He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and swallowed. She straightened up a bit, lifting her head to better study him. He turned his gaze to the sky.

"It's less medical and more... magical." He turned back to her.

"Magical?" Koshka startled a bit, looking up at him. She hadn't sensed anything magical around him. Any lesser fae or demon wouldn't have escaped her notice, so it meant that Malcolm either used it without applying any of it to himself, or he was a being of considerable skill. She raised her eyebrow, entertaining the possibility that he was a demon. That was a twist one might expect in a movie or a cheesy romance novel, and she had thought that such only existed in the realm of cliché fantasies. _Apparently not_.

"You... know about magic?" she exclaimed softly.

"I do..." his tone already suggested he more than just knew about magic. "Now before I say more, I want you to remember all that we have shared and how we feel for one another. Frankly, you're the best thing that ever happened to me, and so… I need to come clean." He sounded distinctly nervous now, his usual demeanor giving way to raw emotion.

Quickly, she reached up to touch his face. "Malcolm... I know about magic, too. So you don't need to worry about it." She trailed off, giving him an encouraging smile.

"I know," Malcolm murmured, leaning into her touch before pulling his face away. "I've known that you know about magic since we first met. Please don't be angry with me, Venjanca… although I do deserve it."

Her jaw dropped as she registered his words. "How the hell do you know who I am?" What reason might Malcolm have to know who she was? Normally, people only knew her name if they had one goal in mind. After all, it was the very meaning of her name.

"I guess I should just get this over with. Just remember what I told you before. I've never cared for anyone else as much as I do you. This last year has been incredible and the more I get to know you, the more I want to be with you." He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath as he stared into her eyes.

With barely a flourish, the visage of the man she'd come to know over the last year rippled away to reveal a silver-haired being that was long familiar to her. Devoid was the usually light, impish expression on these elfin features, Puck looking even more doleful than before.

"I thought that if I looked like _that_ , you'd want to get to know me. And then like me."

She was so stunned that one could have knocked her over with a feather, and she felt herself become weak-kneed, nearly collapsing to the ground as she stared at the imp that had been pursuing her for well over a millennia. She found her brain having a difficult time processing this. Malcolm... was Puck. He'd been Puck all along? She thought back to all the time they'd spent together – not just having sex, but doing other things, like hiking, or going to museums, or the simple pleasure of watching movies or listening to music.

She could only stare at him, at the face of the imp that was as familiar to her as Malcolm's own. "You... you..." She sputtered, "Where is he? Where did Malcolm go?" Her voice melted into a panicked screech. Puck had promised that no harm would come to Malcolm, but the imp could find a fucking loophole through _anything_ …

"He's right here. I've been him all along, since day one." He took a deep breath. "I wanted to tell you. So many times. But you were so happy with me. I liked seeing you happy, so I just kept on."

"I can't. I just..." Koshka stared down at her hands for a moment before the shock started to subside, and rage bubbled up. "How could you do this to me, Puck? Damn you!" Over her time with Malcolm, she'd been fearful of Puck's interference, and had cast spells of protection around her lover. Apparently that had been unneeded…

Puck looked at the dirt like a scolded child, shamed into silence. His hair hung around his face as he stood there, looking like someone who had raided someone else's wardrobe. Malcolm's jacket was too large for him, hanging on his shoulders, and the pants were loose on his slender legs. Koshka barely made note of this observation before he made eye contact with her, quickly looking down again.

 _Puck. Malcolm. Puck_. One and the same. The man she was seriously considering sharing magic with was the one who had been pursuing her for many centuries, his magic rivaling her own.

She wanted to kill Puck. To wreak a horrible vengeance upon him for what she'd done. However, her time with Malcolm had given her pause, and she thought of the things Malcolm had done to make her happy and feel good... She blinked back tears, feeling her eyes glaze over as the visage of Puck started to ripple and blur. She heard him say her name.

No. Vulnerability and confusion were two emotions that Venjanca was not familiar with, and she hated these feelings, especially in front of others. Before she could say or do anything, Puck let out an almost breathless tumble of words.

"I know you're shocked and angry and I don't blame you. I deserve it, and I will do what I can to earn your forgiveness. But understand that all of this was because I cared for you, and the more I got to know you, the deeper my affection and respect for you grew."

He took a step closer and seemed to be about to take another one when he stopped himself, as if he could feel her fury pulsate off her in searing waves.

"I could see I was making you happy, so I kept putting off the reveal. I was tempted to just keep the charade going, but I care about you too much to keep lying to you."

"You lied to me all along. I took you to bed, and trusted you." Her heart was pounding.

"Venjanca, I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you! I-"

Before he could speak further, she waved her arm, magic exuding from her, searing through her flesh before she disappeared in a flash of sharp blue light. The heat produced from her rage set ablaze several nearby trees, but the imp was able to quickly extinguish the flames before they could spread.

"That... could have gone worse." Puck murmured, smiling slightly, if only for a moment as he glanced at the blackened ground around him. She hadn't set the _whole_ forest on fire. That was a good sign… right? _Damn_.


	12. Chapter 11

**That Damn Imp**

 **XI**

o0o

Vengeance Koshka had in spades, if not against Puck, then people who deserved it. She sought out people in need of succor for their rage and grief, whispering her name into their ears or leaving them something akin to a calling card so that they could invoke her, as the ancient laws of magic dictated. Coming to them in her demonic form and outright offering them vengeance – or whatever a magical being's provenance was – was breaking that law, but like Puck, she could work her way through the loopholes of the laws that bound magical folk.

A thirteen-year-old Thai girl, sold into prostitution by her father, had her vengeance against the men who imprisoned her, abused her, and rented her out to others for further abuse.

In Mexico near the border, a man who had lost his wife and several other family members in the crossfire of a war between rival drug lords left a swath of destruction behind him that so horrified the remaining drug lords in the area that they quickly saw the wisdom of moving their enterprises elsewhere.

A Japanese housewife whose successful, hard-working husband was murdered by Yakuza hired by his jealous brother, and who had endured threats against herself and her children by said brother-in-law, now no longer had to worry about her brother-in-law – or the rest of the men who had been involved in her husband's murder, in fact.

A father in Africa whose albino daughter had been attacked, her forearm amputated by black-market poachers, reaped the arms and legs of the ones responsible for his child's mutilation.

After several days of granting people an outlet to avenge their pain, she felt much better. She had spent herself in making the world a bit of a better place, and felt the cool shingles of the roof under her back as she stared up at the stars, listening to a distant scream. It was a relatively warm night here in Istanbul, and the scream mingled with the noise from nearby streets where cars sped around at this late hour.

The _gecekondu bölgesi_ – essentially one of the slums of the largest city in Turkey – attracted refugees and poor folks alike, and unemployment furthered the desperate situations that often could – and did – exist. Crime was a natural consequence, and naturally there would be victims looking for redress. The siren of an ambulance cut through the general din that made up the noises of the slum. The smell of petrol, garbage, and cooking rode through the night air on an occasional breeze, and Koshka let out a slow breath.

The high of vengeance led to a crash, and though she knew it was time, it didn't make actually sitting down and thinking about Malcolm/Puck any easier. He was a man she had been prepared to share her life with, and finding out that the man she loved was the imp she'd had an on-and-off crush for centuries… well, she was certain that would fall in the category of a mind-fuck.

What was she supposed to do now? Simply forgive the imp for his deception – which he obviously hoped for – or shut him out of her life entirely? As angry as she was with him – justifiably so – she did not relish that idea. As much as she tried, she couldn't forget Puck's mournful, regretful expression. Knowing he was honestly sad about how he had hurt her annoyed her, because it would have been a lot easier to nurse the desire to rip his head off if this had simply been a game to him.

A year she had been with him. And a happy year it had been. Even though there had been certain aspects of herself she didn't share with Malcolm, she still had trusted him more than she'd trusted anybody else. If she believed in the whole idea of soul mates, she would have said he was the one.

"Damnit," she muttered to herself before pulling her smartphone out of her jacket. She'd barely glanced at it over the last few days, ignoring emails and messages from clients and acquaintances. A quick perusal of her inbox showed nothing had been sent from Malcolm's number. But then, as goofy as he could be, Puck was at least intelligent enough to know better than to try and contact her when she was so angry. That was definitely a point in his favor. A very small point, but a point nonetheless.

Spent from the wishes she'd granted over the last few days, she had no inclination to send the imp a message via magical means. Fortunately, in this day and age, she could contact him instantaneously by conventional means. Tapping the screen, she highlighted Malcolm's number, and her finger tapped the screen again in quick succession as she typed out a message.

 _'We need to talk'_

She hit Send and sighed, resting the phone on her chest. Would he have the phone on him at that moment, or would he have set it aside for a time? She leaned her head back, staring at the night sky.

She startled as the phone buzzed against her chest. She lifted it, glancing at the screen. It was from him.

 _'Choose the time and place'_ was his simple reply.

 _'Here and now'_

After several moments, she felt the buzz in the air as Puck teleported, shifting reality about a bit as he moved from nearly the other side of the world in two steps.

He was garbed in his usual rustic old fashion, although it looked like he had dressed up for her. His tunic was white silk, and his pants were dark green velvet, loose enough to be comfortable, but snug enough to outline his thighs and offer viewers a subtle hint to his endowment. She felt her heart skip a beat as she regarded him, and her head swam for a moment before she focused on him.

Before he could greet her, another siren cut through the air, and Puck glanced towards it casually as he sat near her on the roof, just out of reach.

Returning his attention to her, she saw a mixture of warmth, concern, and apprehension in his open gaze.

"Hello, Venjanca. I see you've been busy," he said softly. "I saw that article a couple of days ago about the Japanese woman, in a newspaper. And on TV, that father in Africa. And really nice job in Mexico. This one will make it to the media soon enough. Ah, the wonders of technology." He pulled Malcolm's smartphone from inside his shirt.

"How times have changed," she replied dryly. "I figured it was best to deal with my anger in a more productive way. And I made the world a bit of a better place. In my own unique way, of course."

"People say revenge's a bitch, but I know personally she can be a total sweetheart." He batted her eyes at her, and she had to fight back a smile. Quickly, she schooled her face into a frown.

"Before we go any further, there is one thing I must know," she stated. Puck's expression hardened slightly into a serious cant, and the eye-batting was replaced with a steady gaze before he nodded.

"Did you enjoy the things we did together as mundane folk? Or was that all a ploy to get close to me?"

He tapped his chin lightly. "I lied to you for long enough, and I'm not going to any more. Some of the museums we've been to could be boring, but I was much more focused on you. Yes, sometimes I felt stifled by having to be Malcolm, but that was more about deciding on a more… Malcolm-ish response or action than where we were or what we were doing. There was nothing we did that I had to _force_ myself to do. I enjoyed being with you, and doing things we had a mutual interest in, or showing one another new things. Frankly, being with you has been incredible and while Malcolm may have been a disguise, everything else has been the truth."

She felt her lips quirking up in a small smile. "I'm impressed you pulled Malcolm off so well. All that neatness and OCD..."

Puck snorted at that. "It was a meticulous construct. Took me over a month to build the physical form. And it gave me time to think about what you said about me being silly and irresponsible and so I focused on just… aiming for the total opposite."

"Total opposite? That would have made Malcolm a shitty dancer," she reminded him.

"Aha. There's that." Puck nodded with a gleam in his eye. "And remember, you encouraged me to expand my boundaries?"

"Ah jeez."

"See," he pointed out gently. "I put bits of my true self into Malcolm as I got to know you better and you relaxed more around me, and you liked me even more. See, Malcolm and I really are not that different. Neither are you and I."

She turned her head from him, staring over the rooftops, pulling her knees loosely to her chest and folding her arms over them. "So… what now?"

"Well, you haven't set me on fire or come at me with a sharp, pointy object. I think it's safe to say we're doing well so far."

Despite her best efforts to keep a poker face, Koshka was unable to hold back a short laugh before lapsing into silence, continuing to stare out at the city.

"What does happen now though? Do you go back to rebuffing all of my advances for the next few centuries? Although I'd understand, after what I did. I have no right to expect a reinstatement of our relationship." He let out a somber breath, glancing downwards for several moments.

He shrugged. "I've grown up a little. But just a little. Can't have too much of a good thing, you know?" He winked at her. He seemed to want to draw closer to her, but was waiting for a cue.

"I have to admit, I'm impressed with your patience. What was it that made you keep coming back? Did you just like my bitchiness? But then, you proved to be a bit of a masochist in the bedroom..."

Puck laughed. "No. It was everything else. You're smart. And pretty. And funny. And strong. And sexy," he raised his eyebrows playfully. "There's a lot to like about you," he nodded as if he had said something thoughtful, his eyes going half-lidded. "And human-you had plenty of treats too. Like seeing how googly-eyed you get over kittens. Or your kindness to Mrs. Voorhees, bringing her soup and all that. Honestly, it all just adds up to one pretty incredible person."

"Well, you certainly do know how to make a girl feel good. I did enjoy hanging out with you… sometimes. When you were Puck, I mean. I guess that says something?"

"It means you always liked me, you just didn't want to acknowledge it."

"No," she shot back quickly. Just a bit too quickly, and she was certain Puck had noticed. For all his playfulness, he was also a perceptive soul. Fortunately, he seemed to have the good grace to not tease her about this. She paused, cutting herself short, not wanting to admit that she'd been too afraid to actually respond to his advances in the way he wanted.

"You don't need to say it if you don't want to." He shifted a bit, and she gave him a brief nod, so he wiggled closer, though there remained about a foot of space between them.

"When you first came into my shop as Malcolm, I was just about ready to hump your leg right then and there. I was shocked at my own reaction, to be honest. I'd never reacted so strongly to anyone before," she admitted.

"So I did good?" he smirked, "There was no magic in _that_ , you know. Our mutual attraction was pure."

"I indeed sensed no magic around you at all, which surprised me even more. I'd think that I would only react that way if someone was using an arousal spell."

"Like I said, the mutual attraction was pure. I would have it no other way," he murmured, arching back on the shingles as he folded his arms behind his head.

"I thought you were cute, even back then. Truth be told, I found you cuter than plenty of demons, and that left me... confused." It was no secret, at least among magical kind, that fae and demons generally didn't mix. Not that they were enemies, but the two races seemed to be like oil and water, one could bring them together for some time, but they never truly mixed. Both races also tended to find their own kind attractive, demons tended to like scary things like horns and spikes while fae went for the more 'pretty' look.

"Did you now?" he teased, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "Of course, you are a hottie in your real form, too. All shiny, and blue, and beautiful. Not like all those gross, scabby demons," he wrinkled his nose.

"Some of these scabby faces were pretty good lovers, I'll have you know," Koshka replied in mock indignation. "You can't judge others by their appearance. Though I'll grant you're a better lover than any I've ever had."

"Mmm, what did I tell you?" he teased. "I knew you'd enjoy me if you gave me a chance."

"I'm still angry about the deception... but I'll give you the chance to earn my forgiveness."

"And what do I need to do to win back your heart?" His gaze was earnest and serious as he leaned forward.

Koshka smiled a little. "I want Malcolm back."

Puck blinked. "Alright. I will do my best to earn your forgiveness. I will be the best Malcolm there ever was." He stated this with a flourish of his hand, before his expression became serious again as he regarded her. "You want Malcolm. I want you. If you get time with him, then do I get time with you? As the real me?"

Koshka stared at him as she pondered his questions, and he spoke again in a quieter voice. "Remember, Malcolm is also Puck. Time with Malcolm you will have, but you know who he is now. I care for you very deeply, and I also want to show you that as… I am."

Koshka was silent for several moments, regarding him with a similar thoughtful glance. This was the man who had pursued her for over a millennium, the one she had rebuffed more times than she could remember. Yet her time with Malcolm was not something she would give up for anything else. She stroked her chin thoughtfully, and he gave her a curious, eager glance, a very Puckish expression.

"What if I said no? It's Malcolm that wooed me, that I brought to my bed, and came to see a future with." Koshka countered gently. "You did say you would do anything to earn my forgiveness."

He took a deep breath, apparently contemplating his options. She waited patiently.

They locked gazes for several moments before he spoke. "When I said I was all yours, I meant it. If that is what it takes to be with you and make you happy..." His eyes moved to the ground as his voice delivered his words in a soft but steady tone, "then it is what I must do."

"That you are wiling to do so… you have made it clear how deeply you care for me," she whispered.

"What can I say, I'm completely head over heels for you." Though his tone was light, Koshka sensed a faint edge, a grim acceptance of the consequences of his actions.

 _Wow. I guess he really has matured_ , she observed as she stroked her chin.

"You may remain Puck for now," she conceded. "For this meeting."

He wiggled his brows, and they lapsed into several minutes of silence, enjoying the breeze that blew across the rooftops, giving them some relief from the thick warm air.

When he shifted closer, she made no objection, and he settled beside her so that their shoulders were lightly touching. When he leaned his head against her shoulder, she stiffened a bit but did not pull away.

"I missed you. I was really worried about you and wanted to talk to you, to explain things. But I knew you needed the time," Puck whispered. "I meant everything I've ever told you as Malcolm or myself. I care about you very deeply. I want a future with you. I actually considered proposing as Malcolm, for a mundane marriage and all but..." He shook his head. "Figured that was something best done without any… misconception."

"Good call," she said dryly, glancing at him. "Would you have come to me eventually, if I hadn't messaged you?"

"You know it. Because honestly, I didn't want to leave things lingering between us… not just for me, but for you. You were very unhappy and angry… and I certainly didn't want to keep you that way. Again, I'm really sorry for the trouble I caused you. Any trouble I've ever caused you, in fact."

She regarded him with a wistful smile.

"That's a good start."

"Anything for you, kitten. But you already know that, don't you?"

She raised her eyebrow a bit at the endearment that was familiar from Malcolm's lips. Puck realized what he had just done a moment later and smiled a little.

"I call you kitten because a cat is various things. As a demon, you're like a fierce saber-tooth tiger, ready to go with big, sharp claws. Rawr!" He swiped one hand through the air. "But cats are also cute and cuddly and fun to play with. Behind these scary fangs and claws is a cat that I know likes to be petted and loved."

She huffed softly, looking away so he wouldn't see the twinkle in her eye.

"There's nothing wrong with admitting you like a good cuddle and massage now and then. I've always admired you. My attraction to you has been no secret. Big cats are beautiful creatures, all that grace and danger..." At that, he swiped his hand through the air again, albeit in a slower manner, "but it's the little ones that I like the best. But don't worry. I won't tell anyone that you were the sex kitten to the Puck. I know you have your reputation to protect and all, so my lips are sealed." With a theatrical flourish, he twirled his finger against his lips in the almost universal gesture of 'my lips are sealed'.

"The only illusion about Malcolm was the appearance. Everything I've told you about my feelings for you has been the absolute truth. I value and respect your privacy. Besides, I'd have to be a total idiot to not guess what would happen if word started getting around and I'd sooner keep my hide intact, you know. My fear of you is surpassed only by my love."

She let out a slow sigh. That had indeed been one of her biggest fears. His reputation as a fey lover was not without substance, and she'd kept an ear cocked to the magical sphere after Malcolm's reveal, but she had heard nothing of the Puck or his doings.

"Not that you're not worth bragging about, but you know..." He pressed a finger to his lips. Well, for a year he _had_ proven just that.

"Is that the love or fear speaking?" she shot back dryly as she looked at him.

"A little of both?" he asked, rolling his shoulders in a shrug, batting his eyes at her.

"Hmph." A smirk tugged at the corner of her lip.

"… So, just to be clear, you know that I'm all yours. I love you. I've never said that to anyone else before, nor had I ever considered it. You know what kind of being I am. My reputation and all that. But I've never been known to be a liar, and there's good reason for that."

She nodded slowly. He _had_ left a few broken hearts in his wake, but not because of any promises he'd made, or any effort to lead others on. He'd offered pleasure and attention, and if past lovers had chosen to read more into that, he wasn't to blame for that. After all, she'd had several men – human or demon – become besotted with her to the point of declaring love even if she'd given no indication of desiring as such, so she could hardly judge him for similar circumstances.

"I know." She looked up at the stars, feeling his gaze. They sat there in silence for several minutes, and amidst the noises from the city, she could hear his quiet breathing, and feel his very presence so near her.

"Is there anything you would like?" Puck ventured.

"Not at the moment, thank you." There were things she wanted, but she was afraid to ask for them. There was still plenty to think about, and her insides still felt raw.

"… Should I leave now?" he asked hesitantly. She glanced over her shoulder at him, feeling a fresh tug at her heart as she studied him. Anger clashed with need, and she swallowed back the lump that had begun to form in her throat.

As if he was aware of what she felt, he gave her a small, apologetic smile. "I guess I should take that as a yes." His fingers ghosted over the tiles before coning to rest on her wrist. When she felt him tug at her hand, she did not resist, and he lifted her hand to stare down at it before looking back at her. He seemed as if he wanted to kiss her hand, but he simply placed his other hand on top of hers.

Their eyes met as he gently ran his thumb along the top of her wrist.

"Let me know when you want to see me again," he said softly. She nodded.

"I love you." His hands slid from her own, and he rose to his feet. She slowly drew her hand back, still feeling a faint tingle from Puck's touch. He inclined his head and shoulders in an elegant bow. With that, he blew a kiss at her, and was gone.

o0o

The author appreciates all review and feedback, and wishes to thank those who have left such. Your kind words really are what keep me going.


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